You are eight months old today. You are a rolling, squirming, squeaking, squawking, babbling, eating machine. You don't sit still for very long these days, which will make your third trip to Miami in a couple of weeks a real test of your temperment. You have started to develop some very concrete likes and dislikes. You have declared your hatred for a particular brand of organic baby food, which I find amusing. You will eat dirt off the floor, but not Earth's Best Baby food. Go figure. You LOVE puffs. You will scream when you hear the rattle of the jar and have gotten really good at feeding yourself. Sure, every once in a while there will be one that doesn't make the mouth and gets mashed into your hand and slides down your sleeve, only to be found later that day. You are most certainly NOT allergic to peanut butter and would eat that all day if we let you.
Your great love is water. You love baths and have to be watched like a hawk or you will surely use one of your stacking cups to gulp down HUGE cups of bath water. You drink water out of your beginner sippy cup and that alone will occupy you for long periods of time. You even love it when I wipe your face because the cloth has water on it.
You are unbelievably sweet. I call you the "Baby Ambassador". People are constantly stopping and talking to us about you. You smile and babble at everyone. On Sunday you were leaning out of your high chair (which was disinfected within an inch of our lives) when we were at lunch to "chat" with the table of older gentlemen that were trying to watch the football game. By the end of our meal, you had won them all over and they were telling tales of their children when they were younger instead of watching the game.
I already feel like you are getting too big. You are on the verge of crawling and do a little scoot backwards and still use rolling as your main form of transportation. You have a little more hair these days and it is still a sandy blonde. Your eyes are a beautiful bright blue and it looks like they are going to stay blue.
We broke in the jumpy seat on Sunday. It was a huge hit and allowed us to clean the upstairs while you bounced your little heart out.
You are also about to grow out of your pumpkin car seat, so we gave the cart at Target a trial run in anticipation of no longer having you contained. You thought you were very cool and loved smiling at everyone that walked by. Again, about 1 zillion wipes were used prior to this voyage. I think my paranoia is well-founded.
I hope 20 years from now, I still remember your squawky way of "talking" to us in your own little baby language, your fine little baby hairs that tickle my face when I put you to sleep each night, the way you grab my shirt and hold on tight when we walk down the stairs, your sweet "kisses" which are part head-butt and part slobbery lick, how you lift your arms up when you want to be held, and how you kick your legs up and down when you get really excited. I am sure that time will fade all of this, but for now, I plan on soaking up as much baby love as possible and hope that lasts a lifetime.
Love,
Mom
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