Practically 8 Months

Baby Boy! You're almost 8 months old. Where has the time gone? Into naps, chasing you around the floor, feeding you bottles and oatmeal, wearing you on walks around the neighborhood, taking you on trips to see your extended family, lugging you and all of our stuff to work, grocery shopping, Targeting, snuggling with me and your Dad. That's where, I guess. When I think about it, it seems both a long time since you were born and just like yesterday. We have been so entertained by your emerging personality as of late. You seem to be understanding some of the things we say to you, which is just fascinating. I always try to talk to you like you know what I'm saying because I know one day it will just click for you. Which, by the way, has led me to look like a crazy person when we are not together because I am in constant narration of my actions. Habit.

When you wake up in the morning, we hear you on the monitor either crying or nnn nnn nnning to be attended to. When I come in your room, I flip on the light and walk up to the crib, sometimes bending down to peek at you through the slats. You are always way excited to see me and your whole body shows it. You dance and laugh a little, usually while sucking ferociously on the paci. You sure have come to love the paci for hating it so much when you were first born. I'm scared for the day when we must take it away from you.

Mornings with you are especially fun. You are pretty much always cheery and smiley. I try to soak up every minute, especially on the days when I head to work at 9:45. We change your diaper, feed you a bottle, pass you between the two of us while we shower and eat breakfast, you crawl around the house harassing the dog and cat, and we feed you oatmeal and bananas. If I have to go to work, I kiss you a million times before I get out the door. If I get to stay home with you, we usually head upstairs after Daddy goes to work and we play on the only carpet in the house until you get sleepy for naptime.

We keep lots of toys upstairs in our bedroom, strewn all over the floor, but your favorite things to play with are never your toys. It's the not-quite-attached vent on the wall, the billion power cords your Dad has under the bed, the baby monitor near the top of the stairs, or random boxes of construction-what-nots. Most of it is pretty harmless and I pretty much let you play with those things, but I have to admit it raises my blood pressure just a little bit. I worry. It's my job. I'm fairly certain it doesn't phase Daddy but Mommy's job is to worry about you. Check.

You've been crawling since the week of Thanksgiving. It took no time at all for you to get to top speed crawling and now standing with the help of furniture or the occasional pant leg. I felt sure you'd be walking by the end of January but I think I underestimated how tough a task it is! :) You're trying but seem a little hesitant. Maybe another couple of months?

We've reached yet another milestone for you in the past week. We tried dry cereal. The first time I put a piece in your mouth, it was not a happy occasion. You looked like I had just put a chunk of dirt in there. (Maybe that would have been better?) However, when you tried it for the second time, you had a change of heart. Puffs are yummy. It's really neat to see you eat them. I think I just like seeing you think about it and then act upon your desires. My favorite way you try to get the cereal in your mouth is like a person chugging a beer. You pick it up, toss your head back and put your hand over your mouth. Quite funny. Oh, but I also love the lazy man's cereal-eating. You slide the puff to the edge of the table, bend your head down to the edge and scoop that baby in there. I admire your creativity, little man. This weekend, we'll be venturing into the world of cheese and little bits of cooked carrots and peas.

You're the light of our lives, Cooper. Your Dad was right when he predicted that you'd only make us stronger and bring more happiness into our life. We love you to pieces.