You are nine months old. I really intended to get this whole letter done on the date of your actual nine month mark, but no, I couldn't pull off being on time for once. But it's mostly your own fault for wanting me all the time! So, take what you get and know that I love you like crazy. And, start sleeping for longer stretches and I'll write more often. Deal?
Your personality is really starting to burst out of you! The other day I finally realized suddenly that you are understanding a lot of what we say; you're able to show it! I was telling Bobby to find different foods in his bowl and he wanted me to do it for you so I said, "Can you find a green pea on your tray, Owie?" and you looked down excitedly to search for one. I say, "Can you clap?" and you do it so happily! (quickly after my last letter you found the joy of clapping.)
a little video (try to ignore my crazy-in-love-with-her-baby mom voice)...
Also the day after I last wrote, you made it abundantly clear that you had been saying 'dada' and meaning dada. Just tonight (ok, last night now), driving in the car, you kept calling dad from the backseat until he answered you. As for other words, I think you're working on a few, like 'duck' for example, but it's hard to tell for sure just yet. I can't wait to hear what you have to say!
Your first favorite hilarious joke: putting things in mom and dad's mouths, e.g. your suckie.
Speaking of which, you have no interest in using that sucker yourself these days. No interest in a blankie either. Seems that I serve as both. Hmm...
I'll tell you: it's amazing how much love can grow in nine short months. First it grows from a tiny seed to a blossoming tree while you form inside me and finally I meet you, and then it bursts forth with a beautiful harvest of ginormous apples as I memorize your face and learn your little voice and watch you become YOU. And I'm gobbling those apples up, baby. Because they are delicious.
Seriously, none of us can imagine our lives without you. You add SO much joy to our family. Bobby calls you his best friend; he's quite a bit obsessed with you, actually. As soon as he hears one peep in your crib he says, "Did you hear that 'eh' sound? I think it was Oboe. I better go check on him!" And he runs in and hops into your bed and tackles you with hugs and smothers you with kisses. You are his favorite, and he's yours too. Your relationship is special already, and that makes a mama's heart swell.
I'll say it again because I can't say it enough: I love you my little schmoopy!