On being 9 months old

Dear Little Prince,

How have nine months already passed?

I know it’s not fair to ask you that question.  Though, I do wonder how you grasp, or don’t, the passing of time.  Do you understand the difference between day and night?  Do you understand that each day you are growing and learning?  These are questions you’ll never be able to answer.  Because by the time you understand the concept, and have the ability to speak, you will have forgotten what it was like in these early days.

I digress, though, which seems to happy more and more frequently these days as I get less and less sleep.  And why am I getting less sleep?

It could have something to do with the eight teeth you now have.  Eight.  Technically you had eight teeth a month ago, before you were even eight months old.  They are certainly good for chomping, and you’ve been doing a lot of that.  Carrots, bread, tortillas, peas, sweet potatoes, corn, green beans, pasta, fingers, toys, furniture… chomp, chomp, chomp.

It could have something to do with walking.  You’ve taken some steps on your own, strung them together without holding onto anything, one, two, three… four, and fall.  It’s obvious you understand walking and are working on your balance.  You like to walk too as your smile grows with each step, but when you are chasing after something you prefer the scooting crawl you have perfected.  It’s efficient.

It could have something to do with everything you see and hear throughout the day.  You are bombarded with music and sights.  Everything is new.  Everything is exciting.  You study the world intently and intensely, cataloging it all, trying to process it, but there is just too much to figure it all out during the day, so perhaps your mind spins long into the night.  Perhaps.  It’s plausible.

It could just be that you miss us.  You miss our warmth, our smells, our presence.  You stir in your sleep and reach out for us but we aren’t there, so you do what comes naturally to you and then when you reach out again you do find us.  That’s how it should be.  We are your parents, after all, we are supposed to be there for you always.

And, I’m not complaining.  I don’t mind the lost sleep.  It’s all part of this crazy adventure we are embarking on us a family.

I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas.  I just wanted to tell you that I love you and the Queen loves you on your 9 month birthday today, and every single day.

Based on the prior 9 months, the next 3 will come and go faster than we are ready for them to.  But, we will continue to do our best to make sure you are happy and healthy.  That’s our job.  Yours is to continue growing and learning and smiling and giggling and fussing and grabbing and crowing and chomping.

I think you’ve got it under control.

I know you do.

Love,

Matticus

39 thoughts on “On being 9 months old

  1. I love this! You bring me back to mine being nine months old. They are now 12 and 17. But I remember those first steps like they were last month! Only once my oldest got to standing up without holding on, he didn’t care that it took longer to get there with the falling down every five steps; he never wanted to scoot again. Anyway, I wish you well on the best journey of your life! And you’re right: it will all go very fast!

    • I expected the little prince to do the walk/fall routine mroe than going back to scooting… but, he’s nothing if not a big fan of surprising us with everything he does.

  2. Once he’s mobile, there will be nothing sacred in the house. Think tennis balls in the toilet. Think cereal into the DVD player, if you still have one. Oh, and you know how they are running one direction but looking the other way? Better pad all table corners with diapers….

    • We just moved all the furniture with corners to the garage, problem solved.
      Until he finds the one thing in the house we missed, of course.
      Tennis balls in the toilet… that sounds like fun… Do they actually go down, or do they just swirl and swirl and swirl?

      • I’m the household plumber… so, that would be me. Note to self: incinerate all tennis balls immediately.

        This is good stuff. What else you got?

      • We padded all corners with diapers. When Lara was little, of course, she was very curious about all the great doors and drawers in the kitchen. Of course she wanted to open them all and empty them out. we locked most of them except for the plastic ware cabinet. She was free to take them all out as much as she wanted. It satisfied her curiosity every single time. All we did was wash them after.

      • We’ve locked up most of the cabinets he can reach for now, and we do give him tupperware from time to time to keep him occupied, but they don’t work nearly as well as spoons. If he has a spoon in each hand, he’s a happy boy.

  3. I’m telling you … I’m going to bill you for a box of kleenex … these Father to Son posts of yours get me weepy every time!

    You’re a good man, my friend. Here’s to a wonderful 2014 for you and your family!

  4. I so miss my babies being babies sometimes (until I think about diapers …), and never more so than when reading your posts to the Little Prince. I love these letters, DJ 🙂

    • 😀
      I’m glad you are enjoying my letters. I have some ideas for a few from his perspective too. I just haven’t gotten the right pictures to go with them yet. One day though.

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