03.08.09 :: 9:21 am

Life can be so fair, let it go on and on

Dear Oliver,

Today you turned 8 months old. So much has been going on and we will get to all that but I’d like to really quickly yell at the two teeth that are currently wreaking havoc and leaving a trail of drool and misery in their wake. I am telling you right now that when they fall out eventually, I will set them on fire.

Yes, little buddy, you gots teef! Just the other day as I was wiping the thirty gallons of drool from your grinning maw I saw a little white cap poking up and saying hello.
Finally the mystery of your roiling hostility and frustration is solved!

You also got your first cold this month and it’s been about four days of coughing and non-stop snotting. Between the snot and the drool, I think it’s safe to say you’ve slimed every inch of this apartment. The dog included.

It’s messing with your sleep something awful as evidenced by the fact that last night was the worst night we’ve had since the first 2-3 weeks of your life. I know you can’t imagine it but IMAGINE IT.
Just picture your mother going to the liquor store to buy our upstairs neighbors two bottles of wine and writing a very apologetic note for the loop of screaming you’re on from morning until night.

It’s also been a month of mobility wonders. We have come to the inevitability that when you take your first steps, you will take off running. You are so ready to walk; you said forget this crawling business. That’s for babies. You are a grown boy! We hold your hands and you take wobbly steps all over the place. Like a Happy Hour drunk stumbling about after last call.
We can place you at one end of the couch, standing, and you will steady yourself and walk the entire length of it to the other end. Where the lamp is, of course. The very heavy lamp. Of course. You are amazing.

I took you to another round of play group last week and it went much better this time! You didn’t scream your head off and you actually sat and actually played! You played with other babies! You reached out and patted another baby on the head. And you cooed and gnawed on books and I thought for certain you were a changeling.

And then I put you in the bouncy seat but you were not interested in bouncing. And that’s how I knew you were mine.
You were far more interested in the toys on the bouncy seat tray. You touched every single one, pulling this and turning that and tapping the other.

One of the other moms said to me “He’s a thinker.” And she’s right. You don’t necessarily play with your toys as much as you conduct your own kind of scientific experiments on them. It’s like you’re looking at them through a microscope, carefully inspecting every facet and turning them around in your hands.

You’ve added “buh buh buh” and “duh duh duh” to your repertoire of vocabulary words recently. I think this is to indicate just how much you need to see and touch everything around you. You MUST have that remote: “BUH!!!!” you HAVE TO have the cabinet door opened: “DUUUUH!” And when the dog will not cooperate with you yanking her tail, you express the utmost disdain: “EEAAAAAHHHH!!!”

It’s mind-boggling how aware you are of your surroundings and of the world around you now. And how you interact with it all.
This morning was gorgeous; the first really warm spring day of the year. We went to the farmer’s market and you sat in the carrier, back-pack style. You stared up at the trees and the sky and blinked into the sun.

When we went to the park, we let you out of the carrier and held you up so you could practice walking outside. You stared at your feet and the ground. And you carefully placed one foot in front of the other. We let you stand on the park bench by yourself and you smiled and smiled and smiled.
I can’t ever remember being that happy just sitting on a park bench. You’ve opened many windows and doors, my little bunny.

This month marked the first time you actually reached out your arms to me. From your grandmother’s lap, you looked up at me and raised them up and I picked you up and smooshed you into a hug thinking, “He knows who I am! This is what it’s all about.”

I was worried that you weren’t showing any affection for your father and I but then one day while I fed you, you reached your hand up and placed it on my face and left it there. And our eyes locked and the weight of all that tenderness on my heart nearly crushed my ribcage.
When I told your father what you did he said you’d done the same to him as well.
And we’re so happy you’ve become such a loving little boy.

It’s unbelievably emotional to witness you growing out of that weird larval stage into an actual human person.

I think about you all the livelong day. I miss you when I run errands and when I’m on the treadmill and when you take a nap. I never ever knew I could feel this way about another person.

My brightest little starshine.


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