Eight months old

Jan. 12, 2007

Dear Ess,

How has it been eight months already?? You're getting to be such a grown-up little baby... sitting proudly on your own, heading off confidently to daycare (well, at least not dissolving into a puddle when we hand you over), gobbling up solid food and babbling your little heart out.

As usual, it's been an eventful month, with lots of firsts: your first Christmas, your first days at daycare, your first visit to story time at the library, your first head cold, your first stomach bug, your first meat (mmm... pureed chicken. It sort of grosses us out, but you seem to like it quite a bit). And then there was a much-welcomed return to something you tried out a while ago: you slept through the night! Once, anyway, and then you got the stomach bug and there went that idea. But we're hoping it'll happen again soon (may we suggest tonight?).

We ventured out on another trip to New Jersey this month, and we have to say fantastic in the car -- you were easily entertained by your toys, and you took plenty of long that you were naps. We still need to work on the whole sleeping-away-from-home thing, but it sure was nice to have an uneventful car ride (from you, anyway; an unexpected snowstorm on the way back caused us no end of misery). All four of your grandparents, and your doting great-grandparents, were thrilled to spend time with you around Christmas, as were we, though we have to admit that the holiday season was a lot more exhausting than we remember it being in years past.

As far as Christmas goes, you were the recipient of many lovely gifts, including several books customized just for you. They were particularly apt since you're quite the little narcissist these days, loving to look at yourself and laugh. We think you're pretty funny, too, especially when you carry on long conversations with yourself and screech at your ducks in the bathtub.

We have to admit to being a little curious about when, exactly, you're going to realize that you can move. You've completely quit rolling over, and you show absolutely no interest in crawling (despite your mother's attempt to get you in the starting position). You love to sit and play with your toys, and you're also quite fond of standing (with help) and gazing at the world. Everyone assures us that we will not be rushing off to your college dorm to roll you over at night, so I guess it's just a question of when in the eighteen years between now and then you'll figure it out.

A few funny quirks we want to remember: When we carry you upstairs for bed, you grin wildly and crane your neck at the smoke detector at the top of the stairs, which is apparently a very humorous object. You've added a few consonants to your babbling, saying "da da da da" all day long (sometimes even when Dada is holding you!). You adore playing peekaboo, and you've recently begun laughing heartily when you're tickled. You continue to be infinitely more interested in the dogs than you are in us, and we wonder if that will ever change.

Although we are a bit late in posting this update -- as we suspect will happen from here on out whenever the 10th falls in the middle of our now very busy weeks -- our adoration of you has not diminished one bit. We love you so much, sweet girl!

Love,
Mom and Dadadadadada