Friday, March 25, 2011

I'm a mommy. I'm a mommy. I'm a mommy. If I just keep saying it...


GF: "You want to go see Momma? There's Momma!" I'm looking around for my mother. "Do you hear Momma? There she is!" Wait. What is he talking about?

At the gym: "Look! It's Mommy!" Who is that child crawling across the floor quickly to me and why is he smiling at me?

At the doctor's office: Form - "Name/ Relationship" Ringed Dragon / Mother. Well that feels weird.

At the dentist's office: Form - "Patient" Ummmm....N? "Guardian" M-a-d-e....NO (scratching out)...Ringed Dragon...Geez, I'm a mommy.

It's been 9 and a half months, and it hasn't stopped being strange. He's a great baby, most of the time. He is patient and calm as long as he's eaten recently and has something to chew on (hair and tooth brushes are a particular favorite). People see him when I take him out and they always remark on how good he is. One man told me that he was my "trick baby" - the one who will trick me into having another one. I freely acknowledge that I'm thinking about having a second one, and likely would be even if N wasn't so completely wonderful.

I now completely understand the sweet nostalgia mothers of older children feel when they see a sweet soft quiet little baby. N is thinking about becoming a toddler, and I miss the sweet soft (and STILL) days. He's growing in leaps and bounds. Every time he sneezes, I'm pretty sure he grows (and there's been a lot of sneezing). He's working very hard to walk. He crawls sort of haltingly - think praying mantis - but he can chase the dogs and cats all over the room. He can stand up on his own, but he has to be tricked into it. A piece of tshirt, lightly held in his hand, is often enough to make him believe he's holding onto something. He's getting into everything, and has discovered that standing ON things makes it easier to reach other things. He can climb onto the back of the laundry basket, and will if it means a better view of the aquarium.

It seems as though his first word might actually be "light" or "cat" or maybe "Otto" (pronounced "ite" "kit" and "odgo"). He's used each of them in context, and appears to know what he's saying. "Daddee" is brewing, and I encourage it as much as possible. He understands "No," and responds to it quite well (for now). He prefers eating the books to listening to me read them. He loves other babies, and will play quietly next to the other children. He also really likes the swing at the park. He does not laugh at our antics quite so freely as some other babies, but he will laugh at his own personal jokes.

All in all, he's pretty freaking awesome, and I'm a lucky woman.

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