Month Eight

T-Boogie, you are eight months old today!

This last month has draged on and on and on... just waiting for that top tooth to come in. You've been fussy and not wanting to sleep, nursing in your own version of a pattern, which once only included daytime hours and is now based on a 24 hour schedule. And of course, it still hasn't pooped through yet.

On the bright side though, you've started saying "Dada" which would irk me to no end in most cases except for the fact that nobody in this house is called Dada. Your Papa swears up and down that you're talking about him, but I'm not going to count this as your first work since, well, in my mind you are only making sounds. Very cute indeed, you prance around the house in your walker (the one with wheels that we really aren't supposed to be using) chewing on a mini red disco ball and chanting "Dada.....eeeeeeeiiii.....Dada."

You've also gotten back on a razzberry trip which I'm thinking might last a while. I just hope you grow out of that and chewing on pill bottles by the time you get into school. I can just imagine the CPS worker's face when you are being questioned about your neglectful parents and all you do is blow razzberries at her, scream like a banshee, smack a pill bottle against your forehead then start chewing the cap off it.

*sigh*

Your Nanny has also come to stay with us as of yesterday. You seem intrigued by the rings she's wearing, and you've already ripped the necklace off her throat, destroying the clasp and stuck your fingers simultanously in her eye socket and up her nose. I can tell you guys will get along famously.

On a side note, your favorite foods at the moment seems to be slices of apple, and mashed squash. When nothing else will work, either of those are sure to get you in a jolly mood, and you're actually willing to eat them, so I apologize ahead of time if you grow to hate them after being served for every meal. I really try not to force you to eat, because deep down inside I dread the day you decide to wean yourself, so every closed-lipped smirk of yours is an undercover victory for nursing.

So what else? You are just the most charming little beast I've ever met. Even when you cry you are so dang cute that I can't resist doing whatever you want, and I suppose my wish for you should be that I don't spoil you by caving to your every demand, but really I wish that you have this same effect on everyone and you don't have to struggle too much in life. A little won't hurt you, but I hope you never become jaded like your Mama.

Darling, darling girl, when everything else is going wrong in my world, I look at you and forget there is anything but your smile. Thank you for being so wonderful.

I love you,
Mommy.