Month 8

Dear sweet little Simon,

Today you are eight months old and there’s no more denying it: you have a superpower, the ability to make time FLY by. Fly.

One of the biggest changes this month is that you are now sleeping in your own room. What a big boy! Actually, you had no trouble making the transition at all. It was Mommy (and, surprisingly, Daddy) that had a bit of a hard time with it, but we’re getting used to it. Most nights you sleep six or seven hours straight, not that it matters since we still get up to check on you every three or four hours. You like to sleep on your tummy now, and every once in a while you get your arm stuck in a slat, but barring that, you wake up pretty smiley. It is a highlight of my day to come collect you in the morning (although I also enjoy when your daddy does it and I get those extra four minutes of sleep).

You also started swimming lessons at the Y this month. The class is for the littlest kids—six months to two years—and is intended simply to get you used to the water. We have been pleasantly surprised at how well you like it. We were a little dubious since you used to hate your baths so, so much (you’ve outgrown that bath hating by now, though). True to form, you are pretty chilled out in the water, and you look so very adorable in your swim trunks. You do splash more than most of the other kids—we think this is because you are trying to grab the water and, of course, put it in your mouth. Swim lessons are right around your morning nap time (we’re finally getting to have somewhat of a schedule!), so you are pretty crashed out by the end.

It doesn’t take much to entertain you, we’ve found. One of your favorite “toys” is a cup of ice to shake—there was one particularly cute incident with a Runza cup; we were so sad to not have had the video camera for that one. You love to scrunch paper, though you need to be closely supervised since you also love to chew on paper. And you’re starting to sit still a little longer for books, though you still have yet to really make it through them without getting distracted. Magazines are more your pace, probably because they have the added bonus of crinkly paper. Still, your feet are probably your favorite toys—which is nice since they’re always handy.

You love exploring new textures— tree bark, grass, canvas, brick, Daddy’s scruffy face, carpet. And you’ve discovered how to make noise by banging things—your spoon against the high chair tray, the wooden blinds against the window, Daddy’s keyboard (wait . . . what?). I might be sorry for letting you get in the habit of banging on whatever you want, but it’s just so cute (I’m sure this is how bad habits form).

Daddy and I are going to have to get serious about baby-proofing the house. You’re not crawling yet, but you’re getting where you want to go either by rolling there or by what looks kind of like a modified combat crawl—you fold one leg up under you like you’re going to crawl and reach your arms out straight and grab onto whatever you can grab for leverage (blanket, edge of the carpet) and then push your leg straight and pull with your arms. It takes a lot of effort, and I’m sure you’ll find real crawling significantly easier once you get the hang of it.

I still love to watch you interact with people. Often when someone is trying to entertain you, you study him—totally stonefaced—and then, just when the person is about to give up, you bust into a killer grin. Love it (not so much the suspense, but I love the smile when it comes. Totally worth the wait). Yesterday in the store, I got stopped not once but twice by people telling me how cute you are. (I had to pause and consciously respond with the socially acceptable “Thank you. I think so too.” rather than simply gushing “I know! He IS the cutest baby ever!” which was my first thought.) I think you’re actually becoming more aware of people around you—this morning I was listening to a baby reading a book (how fun!), and you stopped what you were doing and turned toward the computer with the biggest smile on your face and began flapping your arms. When I stopped the video, you went back to what you were doing before.

You are beginning to be able to clearly express preferences, whether it be turning your head away from more peas, leaning toward Mama to be held (not gonna lie, I love that), arching your back to avoid sitting, or making a hilarious face at too-spicy guacamole (sorry about that), and it’s fun to have more feedback from you. You are also starting to initiate play (like this game of peekaboo with Aunt Rhonda) and to find things funny. The other day, for example, you stopped nursing to look up at me and laugh. I have no idea what amused you, but it was so spontaneous and joyful. So delightful. And on the other end of the spectrum, you can let out such mournful cries, as I was reminded today when you woke up from your nap. You do tend to be a leeetle bit dramatic; I’m sorry to say you probably get that from me.

You are growing and changing so fast, and the more we get to know you, the more we like you. You ought to know by now that your daddy and I are crazy about you.