9 months (and a couple of days)

Liam, at six months old I bemoaned the fact that when it came time to take your monthly picture, I couldn’t get you to look at the camera. In hindsight, at least I was able to keep you sitting still. Now, at nine months, no sooner do I set you down than you are rolling over (still your preferred mode of transportation) and off to explore some corner of the room; no sooner do I hand you the teddy bear that goes into each month’s shot, than you are throwing it away in favour of a different toy (these days, anything that makes noise or rolls around). This shot had to wait until your dad was home from work so that we could tag-team you into holding onto the bear for more than a split second. You’re becoming more wilful and independent every day. I was hoping to continue doing these shots at least until twelve months, but it remains to be seen whether that will happen.

The past month with you would have been a total delight if it weren’t for two things: the teething and the cold. Over the course of 30 days, you put in 8 teeth. No wonder you had your cranky moments! First came your fangs – the top two outside of the middle ones – and then they started filling in, a bottom one here, a top one there, until there were 2 lines of 4 little white specks jutting out of your gums. How long is it going to take before they actually look like teeth? Even the ones that have been in for more than a month now are scarcely any bigger than the day we found them. You don’t just have to pop them through, you know; you have to grow them all the way out. You also caught your first cold in the midst of this teething mess. You had never been sick before, and you were pretty miserable with your plugged-up nose and sneezing fits. We’re very lucky that you’re generally a healthy little guy, because I’d hate to live like that (or worse) on a daily basis.
Celebrating Christmas with you, however, was awesome – even if you were not entirely up for all the sociability. It was a hoot to have you help decorate and shop, to go to the parade and family get-togethers with you, and to see you on Christmas morning wearing your little holiday pajamas, opening your stocking and gifts. You had no clue what was going on, obviously, but you just being here made it a lot of fun for us.
You eat like a real person now – bagels, cheese, peaches, corn kernels – things that I eat too. You would still rather eat a Cheerio than just about anything else though. Sometimes when I lay you down to change your diaper, Cheerios will start to rain down from your shirtsleeves or pants pockets or wherever it is you’re hiding them, and if you see it happen you will make a mad scramble to get to them before I do so you can pop them in your mouth. You never let a Cheerio go to waste. You are down to nursing just three times per day.
You are on the brink of crawling, though you have been on this brink for at least a month now, and seem to be stalled there. You manage to get around a lot, but it’s all by way of rolling and squirming and shimmying. Your favourite thing to do is spin on your stomach – you will pivot and pivot and pivot, spinning from one toy to the next. A couple of days ago you pulled up on the coffee table for the first time. Perhaps you’ll be one of those kids who skips crawling altogether and goes straight to a walk. More and more these days, we are getting ready to settle into an entirely new routine once I go back to work – even though we still have no daycare provider for you, we’re already working on setting up a gradual introduction process for the two of you, whoever she may be. The start of weaning is part of this, and we have also had to get you reaccustomed to falling asleep for naps on your own (something we let lapse while you were sick and teething). In a couple of weeks, Jeannine goes back to work, and she and Autum will no longer be at our playgroup; just a week after that, Julie-Anne and Emma will be gone, too. You’ll be the oldest kid left, and our time will be up soon, too.
Because of that, I am really trying to enjoy these last few weeks we have together. Making an effort to get out the door and do things with you – to go for those walks on sunny days, to go to the pool even when I’d rather stay in my PJs – and to do things with you at home, too, even if it’s just rolling around on the floor, playing peek-a-boo or watching you empty your diaper basket over and over again. These are the moments that, one day soon, I will miss.

At nine months old, you weigh XX pounds XX ounces and are XX inches long [to be confirmed at Dr. Bailey’s later this week]. Love you, little guy!!