Eight Months

Nine days ago you turned eight months old. I forget how quickly nine days turns into 30 and then here I need to be back again writing another monthly update. Slow down the time, child. How does it happen that these months fly by, yet on the days when you are so frustrated with life because I've again served you broccoli when you clearly wanted blueberry applesauce and only blueberry applesauce served to you on a spoon at a pace of approximately one mouthful every seven seconds seems to last FOREVER and EVER. Those moments drag like all eternity and yet, voila, you are eight months old and here I sit mouth agape wondering when this all happened.


You've become a real little sitting machine this past month. When you started sitting you looked like one of those punching clowns that just rocks around and around without falling but all the while looking very unstable. Occasionally, it's like you completely forget you are sitting and you just fall straight backwards. No fear, Jack, no fear. Like those trust-building exercises people do where they fall backwards into the arms of others, but you don't bother with the part where there are others there to catch you. No siree. You just fall because your no panty-waisted scaredy cat. You usually end up crying like a baby, but we forgive you for now since you are still technically a baby.


You took your first trip alone with your dad this month to Medicine Hat to visit Grandma Bev. I was more sad to see you go than I ever expected. And then I went shopping. And I was much less sad and a lot more poor. But I did it for you, little Jackie. I did it because I know it is important to you that you have a stylish mom with perfectly fitting jeans and jaunty little sweaters with this season's longer camisoles that are the ideal blend of sexy and Gymboree appropriate. You two boys had a great time and by the time you got home, I was a sobbing wreck. I missed you with an ache and emptiness I can't even begin to describe. And then you started on that whole blueberry applesauce freak out thing again and I think I was ready to miss you some more.


You continue to dazzle men and women alike whenever I take you out. Whenever someone doesn't take the time to notice your blue sweater that perfectly matches your blue toque, you like to scream UUUUHHHHHHH until they look. They may be standing beside us in a cashier line or they may be 40 feet down at the end of an aisle. Either way, it is important to you that they acknowledge your charm and cuteness at some point. Your toes have been squeezed more times than I've had any appendage squeezed in my lifetime. And this month you did not freak out on anyone and just pleasantly smiled as they grabbed your legs, pinched your chin, tousled your hair, kissed your hands, and poked your cheeks. One of the unfortunate outcomes of this is that I think you've come to expect this level of attention at all times. So if we're just spending a casual afternoon at home eating, I can sense your disappointment when I don't act amazed while you are eating your puffed wheat.

You've continued to challenge me and help me grow this month, Jack. There are times when your fairly constant moaning and groaning have gotten the better of me and I've contemplated checking into a nice quiet facility somewhere in Vermont. There are other times when you are so angry you start to put together all your sounds and you occassionally sputter out "mamamamamama". These are moments where you obviously wish to be taken very seriously, but I can only smile at the fact you've given me a name. You've given me so much more than just that, my little boy. For every moment I've doubted I can manage another second, you've given me hundreds more moments where I've doubted I could be anywhere else and be as happy as you make me. I love you baby.

Love,
Your Momma