8 Months

Dear Adeline,

You became an 8-month old a few days ago. You're still pretty new in this world, I have boxes of cereal in the cupboard older than you. You, however, are so much tastier to nibble on.

Lately, you have this habit of returning the nibbles, attacking my upper arms, shoulders, and cheeks with your little sucker-fish mouth and leaving quarter-size hickeys on my skin. Then you laugh that hiccup-y laugh, arch your back, and launch yourself away from me like an Olympic diver, except there isn't a pool behind you, just hardwood floor, and it gives me a minor heart-attack every time you do this. I'm expecting the gray hairs any day. 

You have two bottom teeth, and a monster of an upper tooth peeking out a little more every day. Like your Grandpa Pereyo says, you can be my little staple remover now. You are a cheerio-holic, but you'll also devour avocado, steamed veg, pasta, and fruit...actually, you'll devour anything I give you, regardless of the fact that you only have three teeth. Zoe's hind leg is another of your favorite delicacies, even though it leaves the tongue rather hairy.

You're (finally) sleeping through the night, from about 8:30pm-7:00am. When I hear you cry out in the morning, I bring you into our bed, between your dad and I, and nurse you while I play with your wispy, light brown hair. Zoe usually makes her way up to the party by then, and I love to watch the miniature wrestling match that ensues. 

Your favorite book (to eat) is Go, Dog, Go. 

The other day, a man waved at you and you waved back. Since then you have been waving at everything, animate and inanimate. Hi, Zoe. Bye, dresser. We were listening to Sublime and you started to maniacally wave at what seemed like nothing, but perhaps you saw the ghost of Bradley Nowell, may he rest in peace. 

You are so very close to crawling, which is both thrilling and terrifying to your mother. I relied on your stationary pose to get housework done, and now every time I check up on you, you've made it onto your tummy and scooted back as far as the wall, stuck in the splits position and a sad face. If you see something you want three feet ahead of you, you end up crawling backwards and getting supremely agitated that you're retreating instead of reaching that remote/cell phone/whatever dangerous object you're not supposed to play with but we use to tempt you forward. 

You have been a interesting addition to our lives, little one. An addition that has changed us forever. Slapped us into selflessness, made your father and I work harder to keep our commitments of love and support. But you have already taught me more about life and love than I will probably ever teach you. We are blessed, so ineffably blessed, to have you in our lives. 

(Eskimo kisses)

Love, Mom