Shokufeh is... home

Out as long as in

Dear MrMan,

A few days ago, you turned nine months old. While that's amazing, it's today that gets me a little more teary-eyed: you have now lived outside of me as long as you lived in me. There's no going back. Not that there really ever was (thank goodness, because I was pretty uncomfortable there toward the end and I can't imagine another thirteen pounds of you inside), but there's something about this point in your life that really moves me. For nine-plus months, I had the honor of growing you, of carrying an extra soul within, doing my best to prepare you for this world. In that time, you went from a bean to a little person - one who could eat and communicate and move some of his parts.... While you still depend upon me and others, you now take a very active role in growing yourself. You went from that little person to another one, who can help feed himself, communicate more clearly, assert himself, move himself and things around the house.... I feel like today is your graduation day from infancy.

There are now five teeth visible, to different degrees, in your mouth. I guess all these months of drool were a way to prepare to push out the teeth as quickly as possible. Your hair has grown so much that you are starting to look shaggy and in need of a haircut. But I am afraid to bring the scissors close enough to your head to change your appearance. You often have a bit of grime under your nails and on your knees and shins. You have little interest in having your diaper changed, and are in the habit of flipping yourself over on the changing table, as we attempt to hold you down just a little longer. Thank goodness you're still enthusiastic about bathtime, to the point that you try to dive in to the tub as soon as you hear the water running.

New skills of late are many. A few weeks ago, you started waving. You'll often do it almost furtively, sometimes after the other person has waved and then turned away. But you know how to use it when you really want to, like to greet a big kid. Oh, how impressed you are by those a year or two older than you. And you sometimes use it to say goodbye. Then, about ten days ago, you started clapping. I love watching you clap and how pleased you are with your new skill. You often start the morning by sitting up in bed and smiling and clapping.

You continue to crawl and cruise around the house. (Yes, around the house - your comfort zone has expanded. Mine, we're still working on.) You are not content to just pull up on and cruise around the furniture, however - you feel compelled to move the furniture. Chairs, small tables, play structures, none are stationary in your path. Some we've tied down, others we've removed, yet others we secure as the occasion calls for it. You get very frustrated when the securing entails an adult sitting on the furniture, since, as strong as you are, there are limitations to how many pounds you can move. Another favorite activity is chasing a ball/cup/other-rolling-thing: you bat it with a hand and then crawl quickly (or, as I sometimes like to say, rawl) after it. It looks kind of like you're playing soccer on your hands and knees.

Last week, you had your first snowball. From Plum Street, of course. You loved it! With each spoonful, you scrunched up your face, as if the cold and the tartness, of the unsweetened apple juice, was too much to bear. But then you'd open your mouth again. And you were so content, sucking the cold juice up the straw. I thought it would be several years before I'd have the pleasure of sharing with you the delights of my childhood. But here you were, enjoying my long-time favorite snowball stand. I guess this is actually the second thing I'm getting to share, as we go to playgroup at the same facility that I went to more than thirty years ago. Along with one of my classmates from then, and her daughter. I hope that I'm able to provide for you the strong feeling of home and belonging that I often feel.

You love to drink water, and sometimes use the cup as a finger bowl. You drink directly from the rim of the cup, and really like to drink from a straw. You enjoy avocado and pluot and pancakes and potato and carrot with tofu, among other things. But no meal is complete without your beloved Os. At some point during every meal, you start making sounds of wanting something, but nothing in sight is what you want. It's only the Os that content you. Recently, you were so intent on having Os that you were able to indicate to MamanJan to get you out of your high chair and carry you into the kitchen, so that you could stare at the box of Os. You weren't able to teleport it into your hands, but we were able to pick up the box and serve you your treat. I don't think it a coincidence that one of the sounds you like to make is O-o-o-o-o.

Speaking of speaking, last week you said, "Hi!" It hasn't been repeated, so we chalk it up to coincidence, but you really threw me, Daddy, and Ameh Meisa for a loop. You probably thought we were really goofy that we kept saying, "Hi," to see if you'd repeat the sound. You do like to repeat sounds and sometimes initiate the game of repeating the same sound back and forth to each other - usually fake coughs, raspberries, and O-o-o-o-o.

Now that Daddy is here, the two of you have jumped back into your relationship. You go exploring, both in the house and outside. You spend time tapping the doorknocker on the front door. Time outside is followed by drinking water together. He builds towers of toys which, when you spot them, you rawl over and promptly knock down. You fall asleep for naps on his chest and tummy. The first night or two was a little bumpy, as the bed was more crowded, but you are now used to my sleeping on your left side, Daddy on your right. So used to it that, when we switched places on a recent night, you became very agitated, especially when no milk would come out of Daddy's arm.

MrMan, I love you more and more with each passing day. Happy graduation!

Love,
Mommy

Posted by Shokufeh at August 21, 2006 10:16 PM