seven months

Dear Bubbaloo,

Welcome to seven months, sweet boy! What a joy you are, so smiley and grunty and curious and mobile. Hoo boy, are you mobile! One of the biggest and most obvious changes in the past month is that you have started *ahem* crawling, and life as I know it is undergoing some major changes. No cord, open cabinet, unattended water glass, snack, or piece of trash is safe from your inquisitive little hands. With Maddie I had to do very little in the way of baby-proofing, but with you I sense that things are going to be different. You are on the move, and everybody better just look out!

The sound constantly escaping your lips these days is a big ole' grunt. You see the dog, you grunt, your sister holds out a toy, you grunt, you start crawling, again--the grunt. It is excitement, curiosity, happiness, anticipation, all rolled up into one big enthusiastic "nnnnggghh!," and it makes us very happy indeed. You also love to slap and bang things with your hands, arrange your body into a very flexible downward-facing dog, chase Maddie, and spit up on the carpet in ever-exciting arrays of orange, purple and green.

You are getting so big, so fast. I had one of those "oh my" moments the other day as I carried you, asleep, in my arms upstairs to your bed. I passed our reflection in the bathroom mirror and it looked like I was carrying someone else's child. But, wait! That enormous creature in my arms was my very own flesh and blood, my teeny tiny little baby boy, but instead of seeing a snuggly, scrunched up little baby there was this long-limbed, big-headed, fuzzy-haired, dirty-kneed boy! Who are you? Where has the baby gone?

Mealtimes continue to be a big hit at our house. Boppa jokes that for you there is no joy like seeing your Mama, in the kitchen, whipping up a bowl of food. Get used to it, honey. The boys I know never tire of a home-cooked meal from the woman they love most. :) You are incredibly enthusiastic and very serious about food. Keep it coming, and the smiles, "mmms" and grunts never quit. Stop for a minute to do something else--sheer chaos, pandemonium, frustration, "MAMA! Feed me NOW!" To look at your thighs is to understand the seriousness with which you approach nursing, breakfast, nursing, lunch, nursing, nursing, dinner and nursing (in that exact order).

Some of my favorite moments each day are those times we get to snuggle close, just you and I, as you nurse off to sleep. When I got pregnant with Maddie, I started growing my hair out because of this strange ideal I had of myself as a Mama, and it included long hair. These days as your sweet and soft little hand begins its journey upward, caressing and snuggling and patting along, until it at last gently grabs a handful of hair, twirling and swirling and curling it around your fingers, I get it. Many nights you will fall asleep, your hand still holding my hair, and I have to unravel the strands from your fingers after laying you in your crib.

There is a part of me that will always want to hold onto you, to keep you close, to grasp onto the babyhood you are rapidly leaving behind. At the end of the day, it's kind of nice to know you want to hold onto me, as well.

I love you, my darling boy.

Love,

Mama