OK. Goodness. I can’t keep up with how fast you’re growing and changing, it’s hard to update appropriately. But, here’s what I think has happened recently.
(a) You pulled up to stand for the first time a couple of weeks ago, and magically I caught it on camera, because I’m Super Mom.
(b) You finally, like as in last night, figured out how to crawl reliably and quickly. It was a slow learning curve with that one, you kept trying to crawl on your hands and feet instead of hands and knees.
(c) Last Monday the 9th of February, you got dreadfully sick along with the rest of us. It was puke and poop city at our house for a while – even your DD and Aunt Erin were visiting and suffering along with us. Anyway, you cuddled with me all day because we were both sick and it seemed like a good idea at the time, but since then THIS IS ALL YOU WANT TO DO. Your tummy and bummy recovered within 24 hours, but you have retained the clingy, mommy-only, hold me hold me all the time HOLD ME NOW attitude. It is wearying, sweet son of mine. I love you, but you are over 25 pounds at this point. I cannot hold your little baby tail all day long, I can barely stand to hold you for more than 10 minutes without my arms literally starting to tingle. You may laugh, but I have started lifting very heavy weights on my lunch at work, so that I can better serve your needs, O Prince of Clinginess.
(d) The month prior to The Black Death of Cheshire Drive, 2009, you were sleeping through the night, aces. 8 pm until 6 am, with an occasional 11 pm top-up feeding but even that was fading away. And now you are a freaking newborn again. 8pm. 11pm. 1am. 4am. 6am. I have held this schedule with you for the last week. Man it was hard when you were new, but it is especially hard now that I KNOW you are capable of sleeping. Also, because you’re bigger and more coordinated than you were 9 months ago, I frequently stumble into the room to find you sitting or standing up in your crib. You are mad, throwing a fit, and tend to waffle between hitting me and laying your thumb-sucking head on my shoulder when I pick you up. Oof.
(e) You have had a handful of really grumpy days lately, where you don’t know what you want. You’ll reach to be picked up, and Dad or I will pick you up, and then you arch your back and push us away because you want to be put down, and when we put you down then you scream to be picked up again.
(f) I still delight in you most of the time, but this has probably been the hardest week we’ve had with you, barring those first couple of weeks when I was still sore and sleepless.
(g) On the plus side, your talking has gotten ridiculously cute and advanced. You make the funniest noises, a “goi goi goi” sound, and a “shth, shth.” I think you’re brilliant.
(h) All of this unbalanced behavior of yours is evidence of several things. First, that you are normally such a totally wonderful baby that even this slightest bit of fussiness is putting us over the edge. Thus proving that you spoiled us previously. The second thing is that you are probably, God help us, going through a growth spurt, and maybe this is why all the night waking? Please? Please let this be right? And the final thing is that you are growing your personality, and a firm will of your own. You are learning that you get to make choices, and we’re trying to gently show you that choices lead to consquences. You can’t get too far into that with a 10 month old, but we are starting to make sure that as you test boundaries (by, for example, screaming to get attention whilst slapping around the pasta dinner I’ve put on your highchair tray), we are giving you appropriate reactions (pretending to ignore you, though your indignance makes us laugh out of the corners of our mouths.)
(i) Oh, this is cute, I have to put this. Yeah, you are over the baby food from a jar. We barely ever bought any, but since I’ve been giving you tastes off our plate you have elevated your palate. Now a spoonful of baby food mush makes you gag. You blow it out in a raspberry, coating the hapless parent who is attempting to feed you. Then you finger paint with it. Anything but put the stuff in your mouth. I’ve embraced this, and started just piling chopped up bits of our dinner on your tray. Dad still hasn’t given up.
(j) I have to go meet you and dad for dinner now. See you soon!