You turned 10-months-old this month. You’re now in the double digits. This is but one of many previous and soon-to-be experienced milestones in this thing called life. You won’t remember this day because, well, you’re drunk half the time. But in all seriousness, I think the National Institute of Microperson Rememberization states that babies don’t really start remembering life events until they’re somewhere around 5-years-old, which gives your mom and me plenty of time to do some serious damage and can pass the blame onto you when your therapist asks why you’re so “unique.”
This month you figured out to wave hello and goodbye. It’s cute because you’re quirky with your waves. You open and close your fingers with your right hand to wave, and you lift your left hand up and down to wave at us. Sometimes it takes a little coercing to get you to wave, and one of us invariably has to sit there and wave at you to get a response wave from you. Sometimes, if one of us peeks into the bedroom after you’ve woken from a nap and you’re standing there in your playard, you’ll see us and immediately start waving. It’s cute to watch you figure out how to use both of your hands independently. It’s looking like you’re going to be right-handed.
When you’re not being all cute and perfect and angelic, you’ll have a spell where you get really upset about something. Usually it’s because you’ve bonked your head, smashed your fingers, the cat bit you or you just need the close company of mom or dad. In these infrequent cases, you’ve learned to stick out your bottom lip in such a pitiful yet precious way that always warrants one of us picking you up and talking to you to make that pouty bottom lip (as cute as it is) go away.
You’ve also taken a keen interest to music this month. For the last six months or so, I’ve been really bad about not listening to music. This month I’ve made it a point to open iTunes or Pandora whenever the opportunity presents itself and play some likable and danceable playlist. You’ll stop whatever it is you’re doing, look at me and, if you’re standing up, you’ll immediately start bending your knees and bobbing to the beat. If you’re sitting, you’ll usually lift your arms to your side and rock back and forth on your butt to the beat.
This month you’ve started recognizing sounds and you often attempt to imitate them. We call the cat by making these click click noises with a tongue and top of the mouth. Whenever you hear this, you try to imitate the noise by parting your lips and making a smack smack noise. More recently you started imitating the sound of me giving your mom a kiss goodnight by making the same smack smack noise. As I’m walking off to my bedroom, your eyes will follow me and before I get to the door, you’ll wave to me and make kissy noises.
And then there’s the grin. Words can’t express the awesomeness that is this grin. It evolves every month. It’s infectious.
I love you so much, Mars. Every hour, every day, every month brings us new joys and happiness as we watch you experience and take in your world. Don’t ever stop being exactly who you are.
I love you, Sugar.