Nine Months

You are delightful, little man.

I love kissing your sweet cheeks. You seem to like it too, because you press them right up against my lips, as if to invite me to give you a smooch. I oblige, of course. When you see me or your sister or your Daddy, your body spasms as you with giggle and shriek. You and your Daddy have the following conversation almost every day:

Daddy: "Say, 'da da da.'
You: "Bwabwabwa."
Daddy: "Da, da, da"
You: "Bwabwabwa."

This is, in fact, your pat answer for everything. You use it when you are happy or excited ("bwaBWAbwabwa" as you wave and flap your arms) or angry (BWA!BWA!BWA!). I think you've even used it say thank you. You are very polite.

You are very easy to please and are almost always happy, but boy when you're not, you scream like a banshee (just ask Grandma, who got an earful when she dared change your diaper last week, or Auntie Lori, who dared to be "not the mom" when she babysat you). Currently you like: me, Ava, your Daddy, the cat, anything that will go in your mouth, particularly food, anything your sister is playing with, "flying" with Daddy, tickles, mobility, being held, not being held, tearing apart random pieces of paper, looking out the window. It gives me so much joy to see the delight on your face.

Your leaps in mobility have been a joy to see, but also painful at times when I see you fall. Unfortunately, your sister often helps in that department. She's not the biggest fan of sharing toys with you, so she will push or pull or knock you over to make sure you don't get to whatever she's playing with. You still love her, maybe even best of all.

Yes, Tim-tim, you are a delight. When you crawl after me and use my legs to pull up, when you I try to cuddle you in the morning and you would rather wrestle, when I watch you steal your sisters pacifier right out of her mouth, when I go to you in the night and you (finally!) sweetly rest your head on my shoulder, I fall more and more in love with you. Can't help it. You're fantastic.

Love,

Mama