nine months

Today T turned nine months old. He has been in this world for almost as long as I carried him, though not quite, staying put, as he did, for as long as possible. Now he is here though, he has made himself just as at home, and just as comfortable in our world, becoming our world in the process.

As you can see from the photo above, he is now the proud owner of six teeth, with another two just about making their appearance.  His eyes are a mystery, varying from a deep blue to a slate grey depending on the light. We thought he had lots of hair when he was born, but looking back at pictures now we realise how much it has grown. He has a floppy fringe, and a little curl at the nape of his neck, almost a pony tail, that could probably do with a trim but we can't quite bring ourselves to cut it. His hair lies very straight, and neat, often looking like it has been brushed to one side, except for when he has been cuddled up with me and I can't resist the urge to stroke it into spikes!

It is so interesting to me to read how he was just three months ago, and realise how far he has come. He is now eating everything in sight, and after those few weeks where he seemed to be showing no interest at all, the joy of him enjoying food still hasn't worn off. He is far more adventurous than his dad, enjoying a whole variety of fruit, vegetables and fish that The Husband doesn't touch, loves to drink water, and has a slightly frustrating habit of dropping (or flinging with great glee) something that he has tired of onto the floor. I am trying to curb this by saying a vaguely firm "No" when it happens, which he responds to with a bright-eyed giggle that is rather infectious, making my attempts at admonishment someone ineffective as I laugh right back in return.

Perhaps an even greater change is that fact that we have gone from having no pattern to our days to having a very definite structure that seems to be suiting us well. When sleep seemed to be particularly elusive, something that seemed to keep coming up whenever I read anything was about a consistent routine and regular naps. I decided it had to be worth a try and it has occurred to me since that perhaps my little boy is more like me than I had realised, and relishes a structure and predictability to his days just as I do. After a few days of settling him to sleep at around the same time each day, he suddenly started to do it without any input from me, and now I find that each morning and afternoon, given the opportunity, he drifts off himself quite contentedly, seemingly very much his mother's son. He won't go to sleep easily in his cot, but in his pram, the car, or my arms he can drop off almost immediately, like clockwork. 

He now sleeps better at night too, whether because of the routine, or because he is eating better, or because his teething and general snottiness have abated a little, I'm not sure, but I love that he has settled into his own rhythm and seems so content with it. His interest in the world around him still takes precedence though, and he will fight sleep with every inch of his being if there is fun to be had, often dropping straight off after a sing at the library, or a splash in the swimming pool, but only when he knows all the interesting stuff has finished. I also must admit that I still take pleasure in sitting each evening, for much longer than I need to, holding him before I put him to bed. I will never tire of the feeling of his head against my shoulder, his palms splayed across my skin, occasionally gripping gently as though checking I am still there, as he drifts into a deep sleep. It is complete bliss to hold him, fresh from his bath, slightly damp hair and the gentlest of snores, watching the occasional smile play across his face and hoping he is having happy dreams, knowing he is safe in my arms.

He is a happy boy, gloriously happy. He usually wakes with a smile, and quite often of a morning will sit chatting to himself until we go in to see him. His noise of choice is babababa, but he also hums, squeals and blows raspberries as the mood takes him. Mama and Dada have not yet made an appearance, but he has quite animated conversations at times, and I can't wait to able to understand him and listen to what he has to say. He can now crawl at a lightning pace, and in the past week or so has been able to pull himself up onto his feet if there is something particularly tempting on the sofa that he would like to help himself to. His favourite things are phones and remote controls, though I am increasingly trying to keep those out of view, the dvd player, fireplace and oven, which are proving more difficult to hide! I find myself seeking out more play sessions out of the house, where I know we can go and spend a few hours in a relatively baby-proofed environment.

He doesn't really have a favourite toy. Millie will always capture his attention, and she is coping very well with the frequent ear grabbing and hair pulling that his new found mobility is bringing. He likes to bang things, and play with whatever toy I have just started putting away. A tower of any sort will be rapidly knocked down, and throwing anything up and down with sound effects is guaranteed to elicit raucous laughter for as long as the game continues. He is drawn to noise and screens, but also enjoys twanging the doorstop in our bedroom, and is definitely a fan of books, playing with them at length. I've quickly learnt that babies have board books for a reason, with one or two paper pages becoming the casualty of his over-enthusiastic scrunching.

He loves to watch the light when the car door opens, and still loves songs, now joining in with clapping his hands against mine with surprisingly accurate timing. Whenever he gets excited he waves his arms and kicks his legs, especially each morning as we head to the kitchen to see Millie for the first time that day, and he is a big fan of waving hello and goodbye, loving to be held up at the window so he can bang on the glass as anyone leaves. He has just recently started to interact more confidently with other babies, rather than just watching intently whenever we are in a group. His preferred method of introduction seems to be to nuzzle his forehead against someone else's, and I sit trying not to interfere in his first forays into making friends, whilst also trying to gently stop him grabbing hair, cheeks, and eyes, once his head rub has been accepted! 

His close family are the lucky recipients of his biggest smiles, he lights up when someone he knows walks into a room, particularly his daddy or his great-grandad, and though he has occasionally started to wobble his bottom lip when I try to stop him doing something he is determined to do, he is easily distracted from his imminent tears, and in general is incredibly good-natured. I feel like he makes motherhood incredibly easy, he is such wonderful company, and makes me feel like he thinks the same of me. I have laughed more in these last nine months than I can ever remember, and although his mobility brings an increasing fear of danger (for me, definitely not for him!) I am also in awe as I watch him grow and develop. 

He has even more of a personality now, and he seems to be a fun-loving, determined, adventure-seeking, happy boy who loves his family so whole-heartedly, and with such joy. I hope he knows we love him just the same way, and have felt so unbelievably lucky to share our lives with him, every single day of the last nine months.