My son is eight months old. He’s nearly been alive as long out of the womb as he was in it. For some reason, that just blows my mind.
Watching him change and grow and learn always makes me think of how once he was this tiny little boy, roaring on the warming table while the nurses tended to him after taking entirely too long to make his way into this world. How surreal it felt to snuggle him for the first time. How I fell in love with my husband all over again as I listened to him talk and sing to our son about all manner of things he was far too small to understand. Those first few restless nights. How exhausting it all was, but still so precious.
Now, he’s rolling and sitting and laughing and playing and scooting himself all around the place (backwards) and frequently giving me a heart attack when he gets too close to the edge of the bed or reaches for a power cord or bonks his head on the floor from trying to switch positions too quickly.
What. just. happened. Seriously. How did we get here from there? Five years ago, I was wondering what to do with myself since all my plans kept failing and following Jesus had led me pretty much all over the world, but never to anything like a final destination– or at least a “hey, you’re gonna live here for more than a year.” Now I’m married, we’re buying a house, and my son is eight months old.
It’s true, you know. The days are long, but they go by so fast.
At eight months, little baby Moses…
- has curly hair. Or is starting to. I prayed he’d be spared the curse, but no. Looks like he’s going to bear that burden too. Sorry, son. (Oh shush. If you had naturally curly hair, you’d understand.) It is pretty cute on him though.
- is not really a very little baby at all. In fact, I often get that comment from people when I’m out and about. “Whoa, that’s a big baby!” I guess he looks more like a little boy than a baby these days.
- is just not a good sleeper. Nap time and bed time are all very hit or miss. He hardly ever settles himself down without at least a little crying, regardless of how hard I try to make it a smooth transition. He still wakes up at night more frequently than I’d like, but I guess it makes sense when he has to share a bedroom with people who don’t typically go to bed or wake up for the day when he does and especially since one of them snores when he’s lying on his back. (Not naming any names.) Hopefully the room sharing will be at an end soon. Fingers crossed.
- gets compared to “the Gerber baby” pretty much everywhere we go.
- likes to twirl and pull the little curls around his ears. It’s completely adorable.
- is trying really hard to crawl. He can get up on all fours and rock himself back and forth, but from there he either slides backwards on his belly, sweeps a leg under himself and sits upright, or puts himself in yoga poses. Including downward facing dog, high plank, and low lunge. I kid you not. If only I could get him to master savasana. ;)
- likes books. Especially chewing on them. But reading them with Mama is okay too.
- thinks other babies are hilarious. Especially when they’re talking or smiling or laughing. He cannot control himself in these scenarios.
- is happiest in his sling (love my Sakura Bloom! Saving up for one of the fancy ones next…) or his stroller. Really any time we’re out and about and not in the apartment. He loves to have things to look at and people to watch.
- chews on absolutely everything he can get his hands on. Subsequently, the front of his shirt is usually saturated with drool. When these pictures were taken, he’d had this shirt on for about five minutes. Hence, the minimal saturation. I suspect this means more teeth are on the way.