Sage: Eight months

Eight whole months. Wow.

You’re just a smidge over 24 inches, and you’re just a smidge over fourteen pounds. You’re very, very small for your age; of course, you were born five weeks early, but I suspect you’d be small even for a six-month-three-week baby. I haven’t bothered looking at the charts. I don’t care if you stay tiny forever. I don’t care if you have a growth spurt next week and outgrow all your current clothes. As long as you’re happy and healthy, I’m pleased as punch.

I have no idea what “pleased as punch” means. I don’t think anyone my age actually says that.

What a month this has been for you! So many firsts!

Let’s see… you’ve had your first “finger food” this month. They’re these little “puffs” that dissolve easily in your mouth so that if they get a little stuck they’ll disappear shortly. You really like them, but you’re still struggling to get them in your mouth without help most of the time. You can get them in, but they get sticky when wet and they stay on your fingers when you pull your hand away. You don’t mind. You enjoy the challenge.

You started sleeping through the night within the past week or so. It doesn’t happen every night, but it does happen. I think your mother is particularly happy about that.

You’ve gotten really, really good at sitting. You can sit for a long stretch of time, and you can usually throw out your arms to catch yourself if you start tipping in any direction other than straight backwards.

You’ve just started crawling. Early on during this month, you figured out how to push yourself up off the ground; a bit later, you finally got your knees under you; and earlier this week, I set you down on the floor and you crawled straight to me, about three feet away. By yesterday, you were moving pretty darn fast.

You have managed to pull yourself all the way up to a standing position, although you’re pretty unstable once you’re up.

You’ve had your first time being sick. You had a bit of an ear infection, and we had to give you medicine for it. You complained about the medicine when I gave it to you unless I made Cookie Monster style “OM NOM NOM NOM NOM” noises.

Sometimes — not all the time — you’ll go in for kisses. Your Poppa makes a lip-popping noise when he comes in for a kiss, and you’ve started imitating him. For some reason, your tongue goes sideways in your mouth when you do this. It’s really odd, frankly — it’s like a straight line from your nose to your chin. Tongues aren’t supposed to do that, I don’t think. I’ve found myself wondering if you’re going to be good with foreign languages or brass instruments or just freaking out classmates in elementary. (I’m cool with any of those, incidentally.)

You’ve become a lot more verbal. A lot of the time it’s just “aaaaahhhh” or “mmmmmmm,” but sometimes it’s just out and out gibberish babbling. It’s fun to listen to, and to repeat back to you to see how you adapt. Sometimes you repeat certain syllables when you get a good reaction; I wonder how long it will be before “mama” and “dehdeh” mean something to you.

This month has been just a whirlwind of development for you. I still can’t believe you’re two thirds of a year old. It doesn’t seem possible.

So. Advice. I think it’s important for me to give advice. Maybe none of it will matter to you for a long time, but maybe some day you’ll find something I told you and realize you needed to hear it. I hope so.

My advice this month: communicate. I mean, really communicate. That doesn’t just mean talk. Talk is good, but communication is tough. If something matters to you, let people know — and what’s more, really listen to find out what’s important to other people. I’m not saying you should never hold things back; sometimes, it’s necessary. What I’m saying is: there’s a reason that people used to think that there were such things as “magic words” — because the point of communication is to have an affect on the world around you. Focus on how you want to affect the world — and communicate it.

And, as always: be who you are. Don’t let anyone tell you to be someone else. Sometimes, being who you are means that you will get hurt. In those instances, get hurt. It’s better to be yourself and get hurt than to live someone else’s ideals and be empty. Be who you are.

Your mother and I love you so much!!! We just can’t get enough of you. I can’t wait to see you again tomorrow when you wake up.

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3 Responses to Sage: Eight months

  1. sinwi says:

    8 mo…. so much has changed, and so much more to come!!!

  2. Moniba says:

    Wow… I like to imagine how parents must feel when their child starts growing up… making new sounds, trying to crawl, then sit, then finally stand and walk! Doesn’t happiness just bubble up inside you?.. You’ve put it well, I really enjoyed reading it 🙂

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