C - 9.5 Month Update

Dear C,

Best news ever:  You're finally, finally growing.  Between your 8 month weigh in at the doctor's and the 9 month checkup, you gained a pound and 6 ounces.  That officially puts you back onto the percentile charts at a whopping 10%.  Woot!

Seriously though, I cared very little about where you fit in relation to every other 9 month old in the world, but I did care a lot about making sure you gained some chunk.

And happily, you did.

That's not without its own bittersweet points though.  In order to get you to start eating more, I stopped nursing you and switched you to a bottle.  We came to the conclusion that you were most likely nursing only long enough to take the edge off of your hunger and then wanting to get down and play again.  Even if we were in total silence in a dark room, you'd sense that something was going on somewhere in the world and with your face pressed into me, you weren't seeing it.  So you'd pull off, grin at me, and try to roll away.  You're still ridiculously hard to feed with a bottle, but at least I can follow your mouth and get some calories into you.

But I miss nursing.  You were a champ from the get-go, nursing right away and with vigor.  You grew steadily for many, many months and continued to thrive.  And then you realized there was a world going on behind your back and you struggled through wanting to be part of it and wanting to... well, you know, eat.  I think we've hit the best of both worlds.  I still get lots of snuggles while giving a bottle, and you finally get the food you need.

It's been hard, though... sorting through the feelings that I was in some way at fault for your crazy weight issues of the last month.  I know that there are a million factors at play and it was never like I refused to do what was best for you on the basis of what I wanted at the time.  But it's still hard.

However, you're not only growing, you're blossoming.  Your personality, which was already pretty sweet and funny, is gaining more depth.  You know how to work a room and can casually start smiling and waving until you have everyone's attention.  Then you'll laugh or coo or make some noise to let us all know it was absolutely on purpose.  Cracks me up.

You're crawling everywhere.  EVERYWHERE.  I love walking out of a room, (when you're in a good mood), and hearing you snuffle and babble as you shuffle towards me.  Every once an awhile, you'll look up with a huge grin as if to say, "Try and stop me!"   Don't worry, I won't when you're coming my way.  It's when you're headed to the kitchen to attack the dog bowl or the trash can that I use my handy-dandy relocating arms to scoop you up.  If I can't get to you right away, I'll call you and say "No, no C!"  And you grin, shake your head no, and head right back to what you were doing.  But at least I can get you to stall.

I guess I'm so used to you being one particular size that now that you're growing, I'm unable to appropriately estimate how far to put things to keep them out of your reach.  Which is how I ended up with a full glass of ice water on my lap last night.  Nice.

You're regularly say "Mama" and "Baba"  (Which alternately means bottle and bye-bye), and have started saying "Dog!"  I think you're far more focused on trying to get into things than you are about naming them.  I love the difference.  (Well... I love that you're different... you sure keep me busy otherwise).

Anyway, may you keep growing and getting into mischief.  I wouldn't trade it for anything.

Love you, my little munchkin,

Mama

P.S.  I have NO pics of this month.  Nada.  None.  Because every time I went to get my camera, I'd forget that I'd forgotten that I didn't charge the battery.  Situation remedied.  I'll make up for it, I swear.