Dear Eddie | Nine Months

Sweet Eddie Boy -
Nine months in - nine months out. That's what keeps running through my mind as we cross the nine month old mark. From this perspective, it sure makes pregnancy seem like a long run! On the flip side, I can't believe you've already been on this earth for that length of time. It's caused me to be extra-reflective on your development and growth, on the changes you've brought to this household. You showed up at what seems to be just the right time. The right moment when we needed new life, a dose of simplicity - the joy, wonder and laughter that comes with a sweet baby. You brought with you a new layer of happiness for our family - a reminder for us as we struggled with the loss of people we loved, how precious and sweet life is when it's new.

Boating on Pewaukee Lake.

And now, here you are - such a big boy. So sweet and strong. You did lots of big things this month - you began pulling yourself up on things, sometimes using your mouth for leverage when your hands are too busy holding a good toy. You tried new foods: tofu, apples, grapes, broccoli, kiwi, carrots, eggs, yogurt, salmon, asparagus, curry chicken! You went boating on Pewaukee Lake and loved it. We worked on "sleep training" - never, ever did I anticipate at what great lengths and depths I would worry/think/obsess/discuss/dissect baby sleep. You started doing little hand waves, but never at the right time for a "hello" or "bye bye". You "sing" with music when it's on the car, and you drum (bang) on everything in sight - toilet seats, cabinets, your high-chair tray. You earned two new top teeth, and are working on a new one on the bottom. You learned how to cluck. You started doing this funny "talk" where you don't make any sounds but move your mouth around - it looks like you have something to say but forgot to put your dentures in. And...you CRAWLED! Yep - the real deal. You did it at church, while your daddy was hanging out with you during the sermon in the lobby. So he was the lucky duck who got to see it first. And now, you are a whiz - and you have developed your very own style. It's a bear crawl (how fitting!) You don't put your knees down, but instead, crawl on your hands and feet, butt high in the sky. It's a riot and everybody who sees you gets a pretty big kick out of it.

Your signature crawl.

I remember one evening when you were tiny and your daddy and I were sitting at the table eating a late dinner - we had you lying on the ottoman with your Ikea dangly toy overhead. This was during the fleeting days when you couldn't roll around. All of a sudden we heard the sound of the hanging parts smacking together - you had reached up and batted it with your hand. We looked at each other dumbfounded - it blew our minds that you saw something you wanted to touch and did it...and now look at you. You are all over the place, toys in hand, following me from room to room.

Your baptism!

Another really important event occurred this month - we had you baptized at our church. It was a really meaningful day, and we invited all of our family and friends to help us celebrate. We read a lot about baptizing infants versus adult baptism, and felt strongly that we wanted to do this for you, to signify that you are a part of God's covenant family, just as you're a part of our family. Your daddy and I pray every day that you grow up to have a soft heart for God - that you are gentle and honest and peaceful - that you will one day know and love Jesus. Until then, we will do our best to raise you up in a way that you can understand the importance of these things, to teach you how to be faithful, and one day you can decide for yourself, armed with knowledge and teaching and experience.

Anyway, I should wrap it up. I realize that all of these letters to you sound so dreamy. It's not to say that every moment is easy. There's the pure torture of diaper changes alone - you cry and squirm and twist and turn and drive me nuts. You scream the instant I put you in your car seat. Bedtime can sometimes drive me to tears. Or big glasses of wine. My brain is now segmented into two parts - naptime and the rest of the time. Your daddy sometimes gets home from a long day at work and you are a crab until the moment you fall asleep. I would love to have 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep. Or 6. I'd settle for 4 some nights. The balance of working when you sleep and scrambling to keep my job, our home and my relationships somewhat functional is a challenge. But all in all, we've got it so good. You're healthy. You're happy. You're growing. You light up when you see us. We adore you. What could I possibly complain about? So I try not to. Because I want to communicate joy in regard to you. I want you to only sense my love, never my impatience or frustration. We are figuring it out on the fly, and keeping our fingers crossed that it all works out. Hopefully, you absorb the affection and happiness and laughter, and continue to grow up in a household of peace and lightness. God has so richly blessed us, and my praises go up to him in gratitude.

Sweet Bear - I love you more than words could say. Happy 9 months!
Love,
Mama