Letters to Fraser: Nine months

Dear Fraser,

I'm trying to write this before you wake up, but just as I expected, I hear you crying in your crib.

I thought we were turning a corner, as you've "slept in" till around 6:30 a couple days recently. I've been wishing and hoping this is the new normal. But here we are at 5:50. You don't want to miss today's Tour de France stage, huh?

You couldn't possibly experience more changes right now. You're cutting teeth and crawling. You're chatting up a storm. You're so fun and funny.

The day we returned from our annual National Park Road Trip (to be discussed in full in another post!), your top two teeth popped through, and your army crawl really took off. You can't be plopped on the floor with toys surrounding you because now you're forcing yourself over the toys and straight to the electrical outlets or the freezer. Or the bookshelves. You're curious, and you're fast. And you're probably doing what just about every other 9-month-old is doing.

You're on the svelte side, weighing 18 pounds, and your head size and length are in the higher percentages. You seem just about right to us. Your appetite and your desire to feed yourself took off this last month, too.

There's a new baby in town, now, as baby Claire joined Audrey and fam, and it's just so weird to see that you're not "the baby" anymore.

Your dad thinks you're the most social baby because you love waving at strangers, clapping at parades--and pretty much on-demand always, and you don't seem to have "stranger danger." I love this because I see how you make people young and old smile. You're pretty happy in general, unless you're getting your diaper changed or getting dressed after bath time.

Favorite pasttimes continue to be trips to the grocery store, watching and playing with dogs (not that your dog will let you pull on his hair because he certainly will not), eating, clapping, playing with other people's toys, anything around water, hiking, falling asleep in the hiking backpack, stroller rides, Baby Bjorn ("Carlos") rides, library music time, books, opening and shutting doors, watering the garden with Dad, and of course just being outside in general.

I finished up work, and now I'm home with you full-time, which is an adjustment. It's not really an adjustment in terms of schedule or how I feel or anything like that...it's just that the minute I stopped working, your stage changed, and it's off to the races with you. I need to be on my toes at all times. I know I was a bit of a daredevil as a child, and it seems you are, too.

We're delighting in the little things with you, and I wish I could freeze time because I just love you the way you are right now. But every month has brought new and exciting changes, and I know every month to come will be just the same.

Love,
Mom

Letters to Fraser: Eight months

Dear Fraser, 

Oh Fraser. 

You can sit up and play independently! You just had your first solo ride in a grocery cart! You know your name, you know just who's walking in the door at 5:30, and you adore watching your dog. 

All these wonderful things, yet...

You like to get up early. Like between 5 and 6 early. I like to get up early. You know, for some time alone. And you're not crazy about this, apparently, because you like to get up the minute my toes hit my slippers. 

You cannot be trusted on that changing table. Or anywhere for that matter. You're a little Houdini and Evil Kenevil wrapped up in a seemingly sweet and smiley little baby. 

Oh, and let's not forget that your fatal flaw is spitting up. We're at 8 months, and there are no signs you're going to stop anytime soon. It can be three hours post-meal, and you just really want to let everyone know what you had to eat or drink. 

It feels like I'm picking on you, but I'm only teasing. You're still the highlight of our days and the topic of conversation around the clock. We love being your parents, and we envision your future through your behaviors and mannerisms. 

How could you get any more "wiggly," I wonder. And what will be your first word?

We've been preparing to take you camping, and your dad even tried to get me to agree to letting you sleep in your sleeping bag in your crib the other night. I wanted to, but I also feared you would suffocate. Speaking of adventure with Dad, we took you fly-fishing down at the coast, and Dad's been putting you in the hiking pack to go for walks or just to water the garden. You love being outside, and we're pretty happy about that. 

I don't know what's standard, but you still do not have teeth. You're close to crawling but not quite there yet. You're eating pretty much whatever we put in front of you, which is wonderful. I was so stressed about getting you to eat when you turned six months, but now I know it's just like anything...it'll happen in your own time. 

The other day, someone told me that you look like an old soul. This made my heart sing, as I somehow felt it was the first time I heard you look like me. Since the day you were born, people have said you look older than you are. And I've also heard that you have a twinkle or sparkle in your eyes. These are the kind of compliments that just fill me with pride. Somehow, I feel like your smile is loaded with joy and kindness, and I can't wait to see how that spills out into your life as you grow up. 

We're heading into summer now. Your cousins are coming to visit from California, and you're about to have a new local cousin. You're not going to be the baby anymore, and I'm just not quite sure how that's possible. It feels like we just found out we were expecting you, and now you're inching closer to a year old. Time is a crazy thing. 

I want to cherish every day with you, as you are the biggest blessing of my life. 

Love, 

Mom