You are now 10 months old. I know this is how things work, but if you could please slow. it. down. For some reason, 9 months felt OK, but 10 months feels so incredibly close to ONE YEAR. Not OK. Shut it down, please and thank you.
You haven’t shown the slightest interest in crawling, but I think you would stand all day if you could. You’ve started getting cocky. Look, Ma, one hand! Look, Ma, no hands! Sometimes this works. Most times it does not. You are taking a few tentative steps with your feet. Nothing in a purposeful direction yet, but I think the days when I hunch over so you can “walk” around the playground are near. My back is sore just thinking about it, but I am excited for you.
Holding you is like trying to wrestle an octopus; you are always trying to wriggle out of our grasp. Changing time is when you most want to roll. You have perfected the screaming back arch. This makes putting you in high chairs, strollers, and car seats much more interesting. You caught my throat the other day doing this. That’s a hard head, son. Feel free to also shut this down.
You have so much hair! Once I realized how cute your hat hair is, I try to mess it up on purpose now. You sort of look like a Tweety Bird. I love it.
Tooth #2 is staring to make an appearance. Also at an odd angle. I will not be surprised if braces are in your and your brother’s futures. You haven’t complained too much about all the teething. You do things like suck on your palm and chew on your hand; it seems to provide you some relief.
You have complained about being sick. After your first bout with illness, you have had another thanks to Henry’s day care aka a kiddo petri dish. We’ve all been a little sick. You seemed to be holding off, but now you’ve succumbed. Your poor cough rattles your little body, and you sound like a two-pack-a-day smoker. Your nose is running, and you HATE to have it wiped. I wish I could fix these things for you; I really do. We even had a family visit to the doctor, but nothing to be done. Hopefully you will be snot free and chipper soon.
We were making progress on Operation Sleep-Through-the-Night, but your illness has set us back. I can’t do any tough love when you sound like a whole pack of barking dogs. Poor baby.
You are eating three solid meals a day. You seem to love all food. Clementines are one of your current faves. I’m psyched that we all eat the same breakfast together now, eggs + fruit or sweet potato or something. I see you pincer, but you are also a pro at stuffing food into your meaty manos. You’ll eat merrily along and only later will we realize that you have two puffs and a hunk of apple tightly grasped in your fist. You can drink out of a sippy cup, but you also enjoy “drinking” from it upside down, smashing food with it, etc. You have started a super fun new game of throw my fork on the ground and see if Mommy picks it up. This too, shut it down, thanks in advance.
Your fierce devotion to your brother continues. He has started unpromptedly bringing you toys on occasion, and it makes my heart smile. He also unpromptedly continues to tackle you. Sometimes you like this. Many times not. (Henry, seriously, shut it down.)
Despite your sniffles, you continue to be our easy-going, joyful little guy. Your eyes light up when I walk into a room. You enthusiastically reach for our hands at the blessing before dinner, blessing our hands with smears of food. You sing and talk and love to look around and see what is going on. You have started helping a bit when I get dressed and shifting your toy from one hand to another. Your “move” is sticking out your pointer finger and trying to jam it in peoples’ mouths. Sometimes Henry is game, but this is confusing for him. How can he honor the strict “Don’t bite Mac” policy when you are literally stuffing your fingers in his mouth?
Looking forward to helping you toddle and showing off your chunky thighs as it warms up. Sigh, even if it means getting older.