Freddie, Month Eight

Dear Fred-Fred,

I'm sorry for the delay, my sweet boy. You see, there are these two new boys in the family, plus mommy's got a new business going on, and well, time got away from me. I won't let it happen again! I swear! Let's get on with it then, shall we?

You've got this skill all locked up now. Ah, the allure of toys. You are only eight months old! You have no business pulling yourself up! You can barely even sit, so how is it you can now stand?

Alright, I lied. You can sit. The thing is, you rarely do. Since you've been crawling for, um, FOREVER, you are acutely aware that sitting still is much less fun than moving about. Two seconds after I sit you down, you flop onto your side, then belly and then you're off. If I lay down on the floor with you, though, you'll sit and try to eat my hair for as long as I can stand it.

Speaking of eating, all of this increase in activity has given you the appetite of a kid twice your age. You gobble up everything in site. Besides the baby food, which you thoroughly enjoy, you will eat an endless supply of puffs, cheerios and yogurt melts. You've also learned that Maggie doesn't pay much attention to her food. One day she was walking by your high chair with a bowl full of french toast, and she didn't give you a wide enough berth. In no time flat you reached out and swiped her bowl and buried your face in its contents. I've also caught you with PB&J, ritz crackers and some pretzels, all snatched from your sister, no doubt.

You still nurse like a champ, as well, which pleases me to no end. You do this a-dorable thing when you want some milks, as the kids are calling it these days. As soon as you see me, you start suckling on your own tongue, which makes a sweet little clicking sound. Even though it's a soft sound, I can hear it from just about anywhere, and when I scoop you into my arms, you grab me and frantically try to get to the goods as soon as possible. The way you relax and look up at me once the milk is flowing makes me happy beyond words.

It's a little tough to tell, but there are two tiny teeth there on the bottom there that have been threatening to come out for ages now. Part of me wonders if they'll ever erupt. But despite the infinite teething, you are still as pleasant as ever. When we're out I never have a shortage of people telling me that you smile more than any baby they've ever seen, and I don't doubt it. You are, plain and simple, the happiest person I know.

Love, Mama