Baby B

Dear Sylvie (at 9 months)

March 8, 2010 at 10:55 am

Dear Handsome,

Yes, I called you “handsome.” Your daddy started calling you that one day after saying you looked “handsome in your pants,” and it stuck. Despite my protests that girls aren’t handsome, and that it was a weird nickname to bestow, he gradually wore me down and I now find myself calling you that from time to time. Hopefully this is one of the more short-lived nicknames, but I’m not too optimistic. Daddy loves yelling, “Hey, handsome!” and I don’t even think he calls you by your name anymore these days (except, perhaps, a stern “Sylvia!” when you’re being mischievous).

You are now 9 months old – out as long as you were in! This second 40 weeks definitely went faster than the first, and it just keeps picking up steam. I now feel ridiculous that I have still not written your birth story, and I promise to do it at some point in your ninth month. I better get it down in writing soon, because now that you are such a big girl you are keeping me busier than ever. What a difference a month has made!

You are now crazily mobile. You are crawling, rolling everywhere, pulling up to stand, beginning to “cruise,” and you’ve even logged a few seconds of independent standing! They talk about “wonder weeks” in which babies learn a flurry of new skills all at once – well, I think you’ve been having a wonder month because there’s something new every day! You’re pretty fearless, and have thus given yourself enough bumps and bruises (and even a bloody nose!) that we’re probably already on some DSS watch list. You’re getting the hang of this “two-knees” business, but when you started crawling, you were doing so with your left knee and your right foot, with both of your feet facing to the right. I thought it was the cutest little simian thing ever, but your PT said that it’s actually maladaptive since you have some asymmetry in your strength, so for the past month I’ve been following you around on my hands and knees in an attempt to keep your leg down. Yeah, because that’s easy to do all day long! Luckily, you’re discovering that right knee more and more. Hmm, is “luckily” really the right choice of word? Why again did I wish for and encourage you to start crawling? Man, you’re getting incredibly fast with each passing day and you’re into *everything!* The cat food, the recycling, the shoes, the magazines, the crumbs in the crack of the oven…you are exploring every facet and detail of your abode from your new vantage point, and it pretty much all ends up in your mouth at one point or another. You are certainly challenging my previously-held notion of what was “clean enough.” Our housecleaning paraphernalia have seen more use in the past month than they had in entire years, and yet you still manage to find the one speck of dust or rogue Cheerio that we miss.

You recently had your 9-month appointment, and you remain a supermodel contender with your proportions. You’re in the 69th percentile for height, 17th for weight, and 24th for head circumference. You’re so long, in fact, that we just graduated you to a convertible car seat. No more bucket seat for you. Which means I’m now trapped in the car if you ever decide to take your nap there. I think you like it, though. Daddy calls it your “command center,” and you lounge out in it and play with your toys and your feet. You’ve even already taken a couple of naps in it while riding around, and we only got it installed two days ago, so that gets a big thumbs up from me. You are less sure about riding in the stroller like a big girl. It’s fine as long as I keep moving, but whenever I stop, you get whiny. I think you miss having someone to look at and, truthfully, I miss looking down at your little face, too. It’s not the same peering down at the top of your head through a plastic window in the canopy. Oh well, we’ve only used that $300 stroller about 5 times anyway. I laughed at the extreme stance the character “LN” took on strollers in the sweet movie “Away We Go,” but truthfully I’m probably closer to that than I realize. You and I are much happier being marsupials with the Ergo most of the time. As long as you stay in the 17th percentile for weight, I’m happy to carry you around. It’s fun – kind-of reminiscent of my pregnant belly, except with flailing limbs and a babbling mouth attached.

As you grow, your features are changing and rearranging, and I’m starting to see more of your daddy’s face in yours. And your cousin Timmy. You look quite a bit like he did as a baby, down to the way you move your mouth. But every once in a while, I still catch something that is so unmistakably me or my mother or even your paternal great-grandma that it catches me off-guard. You have now cut your top two teeth (PLEASE stop grinding them with your lower ones!) and we realized that you have a lower-than-average labial frenulum (the little doo-hickey that attaches your lip to your gums). When I mentioned it to my mom, she said, “Oh, she’s probably going to have the Gilmore gap!” Ah yes, that. It skipped me, but your grandpa has it, and I think your great aunt might, too. Genes are funny things. I still have no clue what you’re going to look like when you’re older.

You went through a brief period with a food strike, but now you’re back on solids. You seem to think, though, that you’re too much of a big-shot for purées, and you infinitely prefer finger foods now. This month you’ve enjoyed feeding yourself beans, melon, banana, puffs, Cheerios, cottage cheese, string cheese, carrots, bread, avocado, blueberries, and globs of spinach. It is a messy adventure every time you eat, and you’re up to three meals a day now. There is constantly food on everything, and I think I may invest in a smock of some kind for both of us. In fact, I may just take to feeding you outside now that it’s warmer. Then I can just hose you off when we’re done! Just kidding. Kind-of.

You are a very social being, and we’re seeing even more of your wild-woman personality. Daddy no longer gets more than a minute or two of  coffee time in the morning. You pretty much demand that he play “horsey,” dance with you, sing to you, and throw you around. He’s exhausted before his day even begins. You enjoy meeting new people now, and only rarely cry if they touch you or get too close. You love being out and about, soaking in new sights, sounds, and smells. However, I still have to introduce you slowly to new environments when you’re not safely ensconced in our arms. If I plunk you down in an unfamiliar setting, you immediately cry and crawl to me for reassurance. Eventually, though, you do scamper around, exploring your new environs like a little one-kneed Magellan. With other kids, frankly, you’re a bit of a bully. Your buddy Luke is always so gentle with you and actually seems to enjoy taking turns with toys with you, but you just rip them out of his hands maniacally and bop him on the head with them. I think you get a “needs improvement” in the “plays nice with others” category for now. The other day, though, you met your match with Gabe. According to his parents, he’s a bit of a bully, too. I think we’ll set up some regular play dates to let you two take each other down a few pegs.

You now fancy yourself a conversationalist and you are constantly talking throughout the day. You have perfected a ton of new consonant sounds, including b,d,g,h,m,n,p,s,v, and w, and you string them together with all kinds of vowels and funny inflections. You’ve started trying to imitate some words, including “Hi” (“huh”), “Dada,” “Mama,” “kiss” (“sss”), “goosh” (daddy’s word, I have no idea…your version is “guh”) and “poop” (“puh”). We’re still not calling the “Dada” and “Mama” official words yet, since you don’t seem to be labeling us with them, just imitating. But, I don’t know, maybe they are? Boy, I hope “poop” isn’t your first official word. That’s not really a great one for the baby books! But, I swear, the other day you passed some gas, and then looked at me and said, definitively, “puh” with a big smile on your face. It was pretty hilarious.

You’ve been loving book time as of late, and you actually are now listening to the language and stories, rather than just trying to eat the corners of the books. I mean, you still take a nibble every now and again, but after you’ve satisfied your craving for cardboard, your focus goes back to the tale. You try to pick up some of the illustrations in your pincer grasp, and you’re starting to figure out how to turn the pages. Your current favorites include “Brown Bear, Brown Bear,” “Hop on Pop,” and “Snuggle Puppy.” You’re less appreciative of Mommy’s and Daddy’s books and magazines, and you enjoy pulling them off of shelves and ripping them to pieces as we yell “no!” from afar. Boy, we’re finding new things to childproof every day!

This new Sylvie you’re becoming can be exhausting from time to time, but mostly you’re just a blast. I am loving your feisty personality, your independent streak, and your zest for life. It’s so fun to look at things through your eyes and realize just how much of what you’re seeing and experiencing each day is a “first.” I am constantly watching your wheels turning and the connections you’re making with nothing less than awe. When we brought home this little mohawk’d newborn-who-could-fit-on-my-forearm 9 months ago, I never could have imagined that, in the blink of an eye, you’d be this little entity with so many ideas, opinions, and preferences. Yet, here you are. I am amazed by you every day. And I’m so glad you’re mine. I love you, little handsome pants.

Great big kisses (“ss-ss”),

Mama

By phillygil | Posted in Dear Sylvie