Nine months...

Dear Rhea Sue,

Well my girl...you turned nine months old today. Each and every month (week, day, minute) a wonder to your Mama and Papa. Nine months seemed like a lifetime when I was pregnant with you...I had a countdown calendar and found myself obsessively reading websites outlining what the week had most likely brought in your development. I logged countless hours at work learning about your developing toenails and eyelashes. I remember one website informing me that you were, at that particular point, "the size of a peach" which at the time seemed quite substantial and you became that much more "real" to me (I remember sticking my head into my coworkers office to inform her of that fact...luckily I worked with other therapists and she was appropriately interested and validating of my excitement at your new peach like qualities). It's funny to think that you could now not only hold a peach in your own hands, but do a pretty good job of gumming it down to the pit..."real" takes on whole new meaning.

Before I recap the past month I need to take a few moments to acknowledge that lovely month 8 passed by without your letter. July was a bit of a whirlwind month as we had a visitor staying from Australia, we were camera-less for almost two weeks (you wouldn't think that would make a difference but it obviously did) and that miserable flu really knocked me off of my feet. All those excuses made, it is now time to rewind a bit...

July, for all it's lack of actual blog space was, in retrospect, a big month for us. You became increasingly more interactive and mobile and if at all possible even more cute and endearing.

You started to crawl, bypassing the commando crawl so popular with most babies, moving directly into a picture perfect strong armed crawl. You were motivated most by Stashu and the many blocks we were always setting up just outside of your reach in an effort to entice you to move forward (Stashu, bless his heart, has still not gotten the concept of remaining just out of reach...so you are always rewarded with a satisfying Siamese vocalization of irritation when you manage to get yourself wherever he is). You also began to show amazing balance (far beyond your months in our opinion) holding yourself up on any available object. You were well rooted and found your "legs" so early on. None of that wobbly kneed rubber legged stuff for our girl.

As I previously mentioned, we both suffered from a god awful flu. And even in your fever induced misery you soldiered on and approached the flu with more good natured resignation than I was able to muster when it hit me the next week. I couldn't believe that with a fever of 103 you were still trying to knock down blocks and chase the cats, although with admittedly more nursing breaks to fortify you. When I got the same flu, I was unable to even crawl out of bed and your Papa had to call in sick from work so that he could take care of us.

The increased mobility and awareness I spoke of in your 7th month letter advanced at warp speed. The few pictures I managed to capture of you were often blurry or showed your hand reaching for the camera or the top of your head as you came crawling over to where I was. Whatever cute endearing thing I had been inspired to try and capture for posterity you abandoned in your quest for my camera.

Cute and endearing things such as your ability to move quickly from lying on your stomach to sitting up, your first real bruise (though that is imprinted in my memory and on my heart so no need for photographic proof), your ever growing head of luxurious locks, your increasing ability to really "play" on your own and interact with us. And before I knew it the month was behind us and your journey from baby to toddler that much further along.

Eight months...

We flew back east to visit your Grammy and Grandpa and the rest of your east coast family on your eighth month birthday. You proved to be a very pleasant traveling companion and for a woman who historically relished the opportunity to stick in some ear plugs and read through two books on a cross country flight...I found myself connecting to other passengers and interacting with our airborne community in a whole new way. You were a mini celebrity and won many a heart during that six hour journey. The flight actually sped by and before I knew it we were on the ground.

At your Grammy and Grandpa's you amazed us all with your increasing physical skill. You crawled around at lightening speed and soon all of the shoes, dog toys, and various other items best left out of your mouth needed to be moved to higher ground. You started to entertain yourself more and more and would spend all kinds of time out on the sun porch trading toys with Henry.

You pulled yourself up on anything that would even halfway support your weight and Grandpa took to crawling around the living room with you so he could see things on your level. You learned to copy your Grammy and Grandpa when they threw their hands over their heads in excitement and sat with us during supper in your high chair playing with measuring spoons and a small butter pot. For someone still uninterested in solid food you spent quite a bit of time trying to put all manner of things inedible in your mouth. This is something you got even better at as the month wore on. Just this morning I managed to catch you right before you ate the cat food you had shoved in your mouth as soon as you noticed me noticing you had it.

It seems you have figured out that you can make me laugh...and when you do I am rewarded with you laughing right along with me. It is one of the sweetest memories I have of this month. You laughing at me laughing at you. It's different than your earlier laughter which I think was inspired by you thinking I looked or sounded funny...now it's like you get it...that I am laughing because you are funny and nothing is funnier than knowing you are funny. You also have shown your persistent and strong willed nature. Making it clear when you want something and making your displeasure abundantly clear if you are thwarted in your attempts. (You just know your Grammy is somewhere feeling so pleased with herself for somehow altering the fabric of the universe through all her wishing that I would someday have a daughter with a fraction of my own bullheadedness. I think of her every time I change your diaper...a seemingly benign act that can irritate you to your very core. Seems it took two people to change my diaper when I was your age). Your strong will and determination have been serving you well though, and I am amazed at your growth and progress each and every day.

But perhaps the sweetest of all changes has been your mamamamamamama-ing turning into a more distinct ah-MAMA-ah. Especially when you need me. I know enough to know to relish these days...the days when no matter what is wrong with your world you turn to me to make it right again. Though it is a giant responsibility and one that I can't always figure out as well as I wish to, I know these days are numbered and so very precious.


I love you Sweet Pea,

Mama