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Ten months old

Dear MrMan,

Today you turned ten months old. Double digits! I still don't understand how this happened. But, as your great-grand(-step-)mother used to say, according to your grandmother, "Time waits for no man." A couple of weeks ago, I was thinking to myself that there haven't been so many changes this month, that I wouldn't have much to write about. I was wrong. They're subtle changes, yet significant nonetheless.

You're always on the move - crawling here, climbing there. We have a little plastic play structure in the living room. You have become quite adept at climbing its slide and steps. But because it's so small, I was still concerned that you might not really know how to climb stairs. Silly concern. One, because, well, it's a silly concern. Two, because you rock at climbing stairs. Last week, we went to the children's museum for the first time, and you climbed stairs like you'd been climbing them your whole life. All ten months of it. Maybe longer than your whole life.

You have figured out that to climb down from things, you need to turn around and go feet first. Sometimes you do it a little too close to the edge, but you've got the idea. Another thing you've learned is that certain areas require you to crawl closer to the floor. Daddy sometimes brings you to work, at MamanJan's library. You love to crawl around in the open area, and push around the wheeled stool. A few weeks ago, you tried climbing under the chairs, like you do at home. What you didn't count on were the cross bars under the chair, that you whacked your head into. Several times. The next time you came to the library, however, you figured out that you needed to sink very close to the floor before crawling through. When you got to the other end, you were so pleased with yourself, grinning from ear to ear. Both you and I recognized that you'd accomplished something new. So, of course, we clapped. It's nice that you take time out to praise yourself. Sometimes, you'll pause in the middle of doing something to sit down and clap for youself. You deserve it.

You get very excited about cars and other machinery, including lawn mowers. This manifests itself in a hooting out to the vehicle, as if trying to flag it down. And you like to roll plastic cars and trucks around on the floor. Today, I noticed that this seems to be accompanied by a unique sound. Maybe this is your pretend car sound? Time will tell. You also get excited about cats and dogs, and hoot to them. There are a few cats that hang out in the backyard, so you like to spend time at the bedroom window, banging on the window and calling out to them. Last week, you were presented with the opportunity to touch a friend's cat, and, while you wanted to keep approaching the cat, you didn't actually want to touch it. Six months ago, you liked to be at the window and admire the curtains, but your world pretty much stopped there, maybe at the glass behind them. But now, the curtains are pushed aside so that you can see what's beyond them. And, of course, I don't even have to hold you at the window; I just have to make sure you don't tumble off the bed. You have good balance and can stand on your own for a second or two at a time, but it doesn't seem to be your focus. Just promise me you won't take your first unassisted step without my being present.

You have an increasingly good sense of what you are and aren't supposed to do. It's very interesting to me that you are obedient from such a young age. A number of times in the past two months, I have told you not to touch certain things. As expected, you sometimes don't understand. Or pretend not to understand. But other times, you stop a foot or two from the object and whimper: you want it, but understand that you are not to touch it. Nothing other than your conscience is restraining you. Of course, you often do things you know you shouldn't, because you like the attention. One of your favorite games is to find random bits on the floor, look at me, pop the bit in your mouth, and then dart off. You love the chase. But you don't like the mouth probe. I'm learning to let you have your bits, as dust bunnies will just make you stronger. And I established long ago that the paper bits in your diet give you pep and fortitude. So much so that I've considered adding them to my diet so that I can keep up with you. Your appetite extends to things beyond dust bunnies and paper, thank goodness. It's quite a hearty appetite, and recently I've had to adjust my idea of how much you consume. You often eat the same things we do, chewing them with your six teeth. We recently discovered that you even like raw garlic.

Given your love of food, it probably pains you that one of the areas off limits to you is the kitchen. You spend lots of time at the kitchen door, which we've rigged to swing only out. A few weeks ago, you figured out how to pull open the door, but you haven't yet been able to swing it out enough to get past it. You keep trying, though, and we're sure that one day soon, we'll look up and find that you've made it over the threshold. I guess then my aim will be teaching you not to chew on the rabbit cage.

These days, I give you a lot of time to ramble away from me. But when we're together, I hold you extra close. I know this time of closeness and cuddling, especially while nursing, won't last forever. So I cherish it while I can.

Love,
Mommy

Posted by Shokufeh at September 18, 2006 10:26 PM