Dear little man,
This is a week late, since time seems to be in short supply
these days! You marked turning 8 months
old by breaking out your 7th and 8th teeth, making your
jack’o’lantern smile that much fuller, with 4 teeth on top and 4 on
bottom. We can see more teeth starting
to emerge, and are now, a week later, in the throes of more teething. At least with all your teeth you’re getting
to enjoy more solid food. You like
almost everything I’ve made for you – especially broccoli (!) and kale-potato-green
bean. (I plan on holding these memories
of you eating these varied green things dear when the day comes that you turn
your nose up at anything that’s not hot dogs or chicken nuggets or peanut
butter and jelly). I hope that you’ll
always be an open eater, but I know you’ll have a mind of your own and may not
always want to eat what I dish up. Since
you started eating food, I’ve been entertaining myself (and I hope you as well)
by playing a free-association-alliteration game based on whatever food you’re
eating. So sweet potatoes are succulent
and not smarmy, and suspicious and go well with succotach, or peas are popular
in Paris and Peru, and also pernicious and promising. You get the idea. Now that you’ve started eating meats –
particularly beef, I’ve been inspired to tell you all about the burgers your
father and I like and plan to introduce you to.
You’ve heard entries from the Kuma’s menu, and about my single girl
search for the best $2 burger deals in Chicago, how In-and-Out is my favorite
thing about LA…we have many many burger discussions. Will you remember any of this? I do hope we continue our food/vocabulary chats
when you’re old enough to talk and my monologue can give way to a dialogue!
You have lately been more discriminating with your
full-on-D-shaped open-mouth-smiles.
There are times when you look at your father and I with this barely-amused-smirk
(‘Mom, Dad. You are maybe a *little*
funny'). We joke that you’re already too
cool for us, with your rocker-(read: troublemaker)-hair that needs no styling
(or rather, defies styling) and your coy ways with your babysitters, and the
ladies at the shops in our neighborhood. You’ve already mastered the
look-away-bashfully-and-then-look-back-with-a-chortle-and-smiling-eyes-through-those-minky-eyelashes. Who taught you to do that?
You’re keeping us on our toes more and more as you try to
crawl for about a minute and then change your mind and go for the easier rolling
all over the apartment route. I feel
like I should get you a microfiber playsuit and hat so I can take advantage of
the tendency you have to collect dog hair on your person as you roll and roll
and roll. I’m torn between wanting to
see what you’ll do next and hoping that I can keep up with whatever it is! It was easier when you stayed in one place,
but surely not as entertaining!
Love you, my funny Valentine.
mom
