May 2010 Newsletter: 9 months

Dear Morgan,
This past month has been a blast! The month of terror, also known as month eight, is nothing more than a distant memory now. It’s possible that these past few weeks of your life have been my favorite so far. You’re becoming such a little person and it’s just incredible to watch. You’re eating new things every day, you’re waving good-bye, you’re starting to form words, you’re hugging and cuddling and kissing, you’re singing and dancing, and — the biggest milestone yet — you’re crawling!
Your crawl is easily one of the most hilarious things I’ve ever witnessed. For the first week or so you crawled on one knee, dragging the other leg lifelessly behind you. Then, rather than using your knee, you began crawling on one foot, pushing your body forward as if you were riding a skateboard. Now, you crawl using both feet, with your bum in the air like a stink bug. Often, you’ll crawl aimlessly around the house with some random object sticking out of your mouth, saying “Rawrrr, rawrrr, rawrrr”. Your dad calls it your zombie crawl, but I prefer to think of it as your bear crawl. My adorable little bear cub.
Once you began crawling, I knew that pulling yourself up and cruising around the furniture would soon follow… along with you getting into things you shouldn’t, trying to eat everything you happen to find in the carpet, and me no longer being able to turn my back for two seconds. What I didn’t expect was for these things to happen within minutes of you learning to crawl. Shortly after crawling for the very first time, you made a beeline for the coffee table and pulled yourself up into a standing position with ease. As far as you’re concerned, anything you find on that table is fair game. One night, as I was balancing my checkbook and paying bills, I saw your little fingertips reach over the side of the table and before I knew it you had pulled yourself up, grabbed the credit card bill, stuck it in your mouth and ripped it in half… envelope, check and everything. I have to give you some credit, though. Within two days you were able to break both your dad and I of the terrible habit we had of leaving all our junk on the coffee table.
You’re learning the meaning of the word “no”. Or, more accurately, you’re learning to ignore me when I say it. One of your favorite things to do is play with the DVD player. I can’t count the number of times I’ve pulled you away from it and told you “no”, only to have you immediately crawl back to it, laughing. You now associate the DVD player with the word “no” and will often crawl to it happily saying “Na, na, na”. The best part is when I walk out of the room and you wait until I get back — until you’re absolutely certain I’m watching you — before you start crawling towards the entertainment center. Because it’s not enough to just be naughty, you want me to SEE you being naughty. It’s more fun that way.
Another thing you’ve recently taken a shine to is streaking. You’ve always enjoyed being naked; taking baths has been a favorite activity of yours since you were born, and you often burst out in giggles when your diaper is being changed. But you recently discovered something that tops it all: CRAWLING AROUND IN THE NUDE. Since you haven’t peed on the floor yet, I regularly allow you to play naked for a few minutes after your bath. I may regret this when you’re 16 and still want to run around completely exposed, but for now this mama bear doesn’t mind if her cub likes to go au naturel.
Some other highlights this month: the sunburn you got during a picnic with your babysitter, the blisters you got from the sunburn, the scabs you got after you blistered, the judgemental looks I got because of the scabs on your face, the way you insist on kissing me on the lips, the way you got scared and bawled when Grandpa Tom was on all fours bucking like a bronco with Shylee on his back, the first time you giggled after you tooted because you finally realize it’s funny, your love for your Baby Einstein Neighborhood Animals DVD, and your cousin Ashton’s birthday party where you fell in love with a green balloon.
You played with that green balloon in the car, you held it until bed time, you immediately looked for it when you woke up the next morning, you hit it, you squished it, you crawled around the house with it’s string in your mouth, you even held it while you nursed. All of that was fun, but your favorite thing to do was smash your face against it and just look through it. I think you liked the way it gave everything a green tint and made your entire world look so different. Over the next few days you spent hours staring through it, then squealing and excitedly kissing it, then pulling it back up to your face to look at something else.
You are my green balloon, Morgan. From the day you were born, I’ve seen things differently. You’ve given me a second chance at life. The chance to experience things with an innocence I’d forgotten, because now I’m experiencing them with you for the first time. Every color is brighter because you’re seeing it. Every song is more jubilant because you’re hearing it.
And, whether or not we have balloons — with you, every day is a TOTAL party.

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