Eight Months

Today, you're eight months old.

Seriously?

EIGHT MONTHS OLD!!




And normally, this would be the time when I'd write you a lovely little run-down of all the things you accomplished and all of the things you experienced in the eighth month of your little life, but somebody (YOU!!!) decided that bedtime was really more of a suggestion than a rule, and apparently somebody (YOU AGAIN!!!!) had plans to celebrate her birthday the minute it arrived, so I'm not really at the top of my game today. But I'm going to give it a shot, because someday, when you have kids, and they spit chicken and mixed vegetables in your face, you can look back at this and say, 'Oh, that's right...I guess I do deserve this shower of baby food.'




Because the chicken and mixed vegetables selection we tried on you this month? It didn't go over so well. So we went back to the plain meats in plain meat gravies as your dinner options for now. But I'm as stubborn as you are, so don't expect them to last forever...we're going to work on expanding your tastes in the ninth month, at least as far as the meat products are concerned. And really, that's the only area we've had problems with you, because you've liked just about every fruit and vegetable and fruit/vegetable combination we've thrown at you this month. And that includes the yogurts and the juices (mixed with water!) and the frozen juice popsicles (also mixed with water!) we made when we thought you were fussy from teething (You know, that time you actually had an earache, and mommy swore you were fine? Let's just pretend that didn't happen. We'll focus on how good the popsicles were, instead. Ok? Yum!). We even expanded into finger foods, despite my best efforts to avoid it. You love the puffs and the crunchies and honestly? What did people do before Gerber took over the world of baby food? You are pretty much a fan of everything they make. And you have the cutest Michelin Man thighs and Fred Flinstone feet to prove it.




The dogs would like me to mention that they too are fans of most Gerber products, and any time you're willing to share, you know where to find them. They're the ones trying to steal the puffs off of the tray on your walker. And they're the ones licking your hand if you try to hang it over the side of the high chair. They'll also volunteer to clean your face off after a meal, if you don't want to deal with the inconvenience of a washcloth. They are nothing if not helpful.




Speaking of the walker, you seem to getting the hang of how to use it, judging by the fact that when I put you in it while heating up your breakfast, you always end up in a different place than where you started. Of course, about half the time that place is stuck and angry in some corner of the kitchen, so there's still some room for improvement, but you'll get there, I'm sure. Sooner than I'd like, probably. In other mobility news, you pull yourself up on all fours with complete ease, now, and the rocking back and forth has become incessant. In fact, you actually put it all together and crawled for the first time this month...for about a half a second. But to me, it still counts as your first time, because I was there to witness it. Unless I'm there the next time you do it, too, then that can be your first time if you make a more impressive showing. I'll leave it open to interpretation for now.




It was finally warm enough for you to hit the pool this last month, and while you hated it the first time around, a quick stint in the baby pool and a second attempt at the big pool went much better. Well, it went better until we put you in the baby floatie thing, and you tried to lay your head on the side of it, and you basically stuck your whole head under water. Turns out, that's not so much fun for you. I thought that would teach you not to lean forward in the bathtub in an attempt to bite at the bubbles, which also has a 'face in the water' effect, but no dice. Add to that the fact that you've taken to trying to pull yourself up on the side of the bathtub, and I'm going to have to have your Aunt Mary sit you down and explain to you how you end up with stitches in your chin. Let's just stick with the sitting in one spot for now, ok?




We were pretty lucky, keeping you healthy for so many months, but we finally lost that battle this month. Poor little girl, with her first little cold, and her first experience with the nose sucker and saline nose mist. I'm sure it's not something you'd want to remember, but you were so sweetly pitiful, and it was so sad to see you not feeling well. And, um, while you were our main concern, of course, your dad and I were so tired at the end of it, too...so, let's just not do that anymore, agreed? Thanks.




You still have no teeth. You give the best kisses, ever, and you know when we're asking for them. You still don't necessarily give them out when asked, but you know what we're looking for. In fact, you've made a game of turning your head away and giggling when we come in for one, if you're in one of those moods. You've started crying when one of us leaves the room, and you don't think it's time for that, yet. You roll your way all over creation. You love books, although more for the chewing aspect than anything else. That book of textures? The fuzzy teddy bear fur is your favorite. The Fisher Price ring set is just as much fun for you as it was for mommy and daddy when we were babies. You love Elmo, and you love cats, both the new stuffed one you just got and the real ones that prowl the downstairs from time to time. Those real ones absolutely mesmerize you, actually. It's pretty funny to watch. In fact, you're pretty funny to watch in general. We have a good time hanging out together, you and I. And I imagine it's only going to get better.

Well, until you hit about fourteen or fifteen, that is...

Then we'll see.

Happy birthday, Bug! I love you!