Month Eight. July 21, 2012
So you are basically a grown up now. You are crawling, for one thing. You are mobile and you are EVERYWHERE. Most babies crawl on both knees, but not you, girl. You use one knee and one foot, resulting in a lopsided scramble move that is both efficient and hilarious. You are no longer interested in anything you can reach from where you are, but every leaf, every floor vent, every piece of fuzz across the room is the most fascinating thing that’s ever existed and you will not rest until you get to it and put it in your mouth.
You are also pulling up on everything you see. The floor is boring and not good enough for you. The sofa, the entertainment center, my leg, the ottoman in your room with the wheels on it that does not stay put no matter how mad you get. You need to be tall and see, even if you can’t get yourself to where you want to be quite yet. There’s no disappointment quite like crawling to the sofa, pulling yourself up, and NOT finding a pile of remotes to chew on.
The other big development this month is teeth. Oh, girl. The teeth. You have six now, four on top and two on bottom, and they are tiny and sharp and make excellent weapons. They’ll attack anything that comes in their path – fingers, toys, furniture, other things. Things that, oh, I don’t know, FEED YOU. It’s not my favorite thing, that’s for sure. I love you more than my luggage but this has been a major challenge.
You went on your first plane ride and first vacation this month, too, to Colorado for your Grandpa and Juju’s 40th anniversary. I was super nervous about the plane, but you were a total rock star. You were great all week, rolling with the time change and the travel and the weird environment and a bunch of relative strangers all up in your business. You rode on a boat and went up a mountain and stayed in a hotel and were all-around an awesome kid.
I don’t mean to end each letter talking about how fun and exciting it is to have you around. And it is not all sunshine and rainbows, I don’t care what anybody says. You hate sleeping, you love yelling at inopportune times and in very public places, and I don’t know if I mentioned the TEETH but that is a SITUATION that I do not CARE FOR. But you have a smile that lights up a room, your sweet giggle makes your dad happier than I’ve ever seen him, you don’t cry when I sing the Avett Brothers to you. You fill my heart with joy, sweet girl, and I’m so glad you’re mine.