eight is great

Dear Garrett,

You are taking your morning nap right now. You are so precious when you sleep. When I sneak into your room to check on you, cursing the creaking floors as I do so, I smile when I find you sprawled spread eagle, as if you collapsed from exhaustion after wrestling with the blankets, or curled up under the covers with your Lovey clasped in your hands. I'd love to continue to watch you sweetly slumber, but I think instead I'll take advantage of these few quiet moments to write you your letter. It is not the 30th, and therefore the day you officially turn eight months old, but rather February 29th, which I'll take because this is about as good as it will ever get.

You are such a big boy! You sit up very well now, and I can set you down to play with your toys without a pillow propped behind you to catch should you fall. As strong as you've become, you still sometimes topple, but you are getting quite good at catching yourself before your head smacks these old wood floors. You are not crawling yet, but you occasionally give me signs that you are interested in learning: you inadvertently scoot backwards and around in circles, often in an attempt to reach the toys you've pushed beyond your reach.

You love to play. You sing and babble to yourself, and apparently have much to talk about. You've discovered how fun it is to blow raspberries, and you are absolutely delighted by your mirrored reflection. Currently your favorite toy is your stacking donuts. Just like your dad, I often catch you contemplatively twirling your beautiful blond hair. While you are generally a quiet boy, you have learned how joyous it can be to belt out screams and shrieks of excitement when you are especially happy. Though these squeals always startle me initially, they ultimately make me want to join right in with you and your fun. You are still an incredibly ticklish boy. I am consistently uncovering new ticklish spots (this month it's been the bottoms of your feet and the backs of your thighs), and I'm sorry that I so often pin you to the floor and tickle you 'til we're both out of breath, but I so love to hear your happy, contagious giggles.

You don't have any teeth yet, but that hasn't hindered your love of food. You pant with anxious excitement when I pull out your bottle, and you scarf down your solids. I'm so pleased that, while you're still afraid of the blender, you enjoy the fruits and vegetables I prepare for you using that appliance. With a little patient persistence, you've come to love foods (like peas) that you initially pulled faces at. And even though mealtimes have become rather drawn out because you are so easily distracted by your surroundings, you eat heartily and, as evidenced by your eagerly wide open little mouth, enjoy doing so. Your love for ice water has only grown greater. Your dad and I can hardly pour a glass for ourselves without you reaching for a shared sip! We give you your own sippy cup, which you've taken to very well, but a part of you seems to be happier if you're gulping out of a glass.

You are captivated and enchanted when you watch other children play, and I look forward to the day you are mobile enough to join them. I am happy to see that, at least so far, you are not as shy as your mama - though you are very good at burying your head in my shoulders while occasionally peeking back out long enough to pull flirtatious grins at cooing adults (like Peggy at the laundromat). When you are tired of the attention, and tired of being awake, you start to drop hints that you're ready again for a nap: first you and everyone around you enjoys your glorious second-wind happiness; then a few confused whines escape you; and finally, when you begin to bury your head in my chest and wearily rub it back and forth, I know you're begging for some sleep in your crib. And so I put you down, give you your binky and tuck your Lovey between your arms, pull the blankets over your shoulders, and give you a kiss. After a moment spent admiring how preciously you sleep, I creep out of the room, cursing the creaking floors as I do so. You are beautiful, and I love you, my sweet boy.

Love,
Mama