Awake ye muses nine, sing me a strain divine

Today, my little cutie-face, today you have been out for as long as you were in.

Because today you are NINE MONTHS OLD!!!

Nine!

I used to have a housemate from New Zealand, who, whenever anyone burped or farted, would say, "Better out than in!"

Not to compare you to a burp or fart, of course.

You have your nine-month appointment next week, at which point we'll find out just how ginormous you are. My best guess is: very.

I look back at even my most pregnant pictures and then I look at you and I find it astounding that you, such a big little man, were ever inside of me. And then I think, how did we create someone so wonderful?

Having you reminds me that sometimes the universe lines up just right and gives you exactly what you need, and even more than you feel you deserve.

In these nine months you've transformed from an adorable, smooshy, mouse-noise making, sweet little clenched-hands lump of newborn to a gorgeous smiley biggie boy who never stops moving. Who doesn't miss a detail. And who has opinions! Lots and lots of opinions!

Your new favorite thing is to drag yourself across the floor. I know you're trying to crawl, but you have only figured out how to use one arm and one leg, while your stomach stays flat on the floor.

You pick up an astounding amount of schmutz this way. It's kind of horrifying how dirty our floors are. Particularly since you like to lick them.

I've briefly considered taping Swiffer sheets to your clothing and setting you loose. But that seems kind of trashy. Also, Dad won't let me.

So it kind of looks like you're a wounded soldier crawling with your rifle in one hand and dragging your bum leg behind you. You get very far very fast this way, though.

I can only imagine how things will be when you figure out how to use all your limbs.

You're sitting up by yourself, and you would like to stand, but you cannot seem to figure out how to put your feet flat on the floor. You're an excellent toe pointer, though.
You had started saying "Mamama" and "Babababa" and "Dadada" but now you mostly just say "Eeeeey!"

Currently you're much more intent on motion than sound.

You say, "Ey!" when you see something new. And then drag yourself over to it with astounding alacrity. Then you put it in your mouth.

Aunt Jen's husband said this is because you're in your oral phase.

And then Aunt Jen said, "Well, thank God this isn't his anal phase. Because can you imagine what he'd be trying to put in his butt?"

He told her very sternly to behave.

(He doesn't yet know that we love her so much precisely because she doesn't.)

Happy nine months, my lovey dovey snoochie bottom!

Love,

Mama