I am already planning her first birthday like a crazy person. I figure the one time I am totally encouraged to be a crazy mom is my first baby’s first birthday. I promise no themes or clowns though – give me a little credit y’all.
She has started giving me hugs and kisses. She looks at me and grunts frantically until I hold out my fingers for her to walk towards me, and then flings her chubby arms around my neck and babbles softly into my ear. When I push out my lips and make the “mmmmm” kissy noise she lurches unsteadily towards me with a big open mouthed drooly kiss.
Oh, my heart! Seriously, child.
Her babbling is starting to take on a very serious tone, like, she has something very. important. to tell me, and she stares at me intently, and emphasises syllables over and over until she is sure that I GET IT.
“Ada, da da da, DA DA! a-DA! DadadadDA DA DA!”
And then she nods and smiles, satisfied that I understand.
(I do not understand. I keep suggesting that she use the sign language that Adam and I have been doing like idiots since she was four months old. But so far, no cigar. Unless grass-eating counts.)
I let her eat grass sometimes because I think kids are too clean nowadays. Go ahead kid! Eat some dirt! Strengthen your immune system! Can you trim the hedges too while you’re at it?
Now that those two teeth have poked out, this 9 months old is sleeping like a champ again.
And I am going to whisper this part so that I don’t anger the powers that be: for three nights in a row now she has gone to sleep at around 8, slept till 6:30 am, fed, then slept again until nine.
That sound you hear is my sanity returning, the bags under my eyes fading, and my reliance on coffee waning slowly…suspiciously.
Happy 9 Months, Little Liv. We love you.