Dear Paisley-

This has been the month for milestones. You have been non-stop this month and I’m exhausted trying to keep up. They should make baby book pages with legal-sized paper so I can squeeze it all in there.

For starters, in the past four weeks you have gotten four new teeth. That top gumline is really filling out! This round of teething has definitely been harder on you than the previous two were, but it hasn’t killed any of us yet so it can’t be that bad. You know who has died though? Baby bunnies. Ribbon-lined baskets full of them. Why? Because you won’t stop grinding those six adorable little teeth together! I haven’t actually said this outloud to you, but I definitely think it. I have, outloud, threatened to have your teeth removed. After all, you’re going to lose those eventually anyway. With six teeth I assume they need to be brushed, and the dentist agreed, so he sent me home with a tiny little Winnie the Pooh pink toothbrush this week. So far you like chewing on it and getting used to the feeling in your mouth. Soon we’ll start making it part of your regular routine.

All those teeth are making it a lot easier to eat! Your world has really opened up with food this past month. After “The Apple Incident”, I’ve been reluctant to give you whole bites of food, but you’ve proven to take them like a champ. Blueberries, blackberries, eggs, bread and even macaroni noodles have found their way on to your tray and in to your belly. The hit or miss ratio of Cheerios to floor versus mouth has greatly improved and I’m not vacuuming nearly as often! I think I made the very last batch of pureed food this month. By the time this freezer-full is wiped out, you’ll be ready to eat like the big kids.

You do a lot of things like big kids do these days. Why I’m burying this in the fourth paragraph I’m not sure, it deserved a neon starburst banner at the top of the page.

YOU ARE WALKING!!!

No big deal, you only started that at 8.5 months old. Oh wait, that’s NOT NORMAL! One night while Grandma Lori was visiting, you stood with one hand on my knee, and just took off. You toddle-toddle-toddle here to there and back and over there and around this all the time. It’s thrilling and exciting and I’m bursting with pride for you, and I’m also sad that I can’t lay you down somewhere and come back to find you in the exact same spot. Now, you chase us. If we leave the room you yell at us and then crawl and/or walk until we reunite. You like to follow us in to the kitchen and then stand at the dishwasher splashing in the dirty water (so gross!) or poking and prodding the soap lid or the jetdry button.

Your curiosity is endless and I love how I can actually see it in your expressions. The way you tilt your head, open your eyes and even the sounds you make, I can actively see you trying to learn and figure things out. I’d love to know what it is you’re wondering, but you’re quicker to let us in on the secret.

Not only did you start walking this month, but you’ve started clapping. They are the tiniest little claps and they don’t create any sound but they are just as sweet as they could be. You’ll even clap along when I sing “If You’re Happy and You Know it.” You’re waving hi and bye. It’s entirely possible that you said “Bye” the other day. Out of no where you raised your arm to wave and said “Bah!” Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t. You’re also starting to put your hand on your own mouth to make the ba-ba-ba sound and you think it’s hilarious. I’ve also caught you dropping things and saying, consistently, what sounds exactly like “uh-oh!”.

You are still just a ball of joy when you wake up in the morning, so talkative and singsongy and playful. You’re a danger to yourself if left alone in our bed, so we keep a small supply of toys on the floor for you to play with while we get ready in the morning. Although, you just follow us in to the bathroom and cruise along the tub anyway, trying to eat tea light candles. We, however, are less joyful when you wake up. Because your 7:30 wake-up call is the second or third time we’ve seen you since you went to bed… at the unholy hour of 9 or 10 at night. I know you’re teething, and I’m praying that that’s the only reason for your sudden refusal to sleep through the night, but kid, you’ve gotta give me a break.

I’m tired to a point that I’m nauseous, all the time. I ache, I’m grumpy, I’m short-tempered and lethargic. I want and need to have the energy to keep up with you, and to keep up with my day, but at this rate, you’re going to have to start changing your own diapers and making your own bottles because I’m going to be in a coma in a closet soon. Nevertheless, midnight snuggles or morning snuggles, I soak them up, one and all.

Enough about me! What about you? You get better each and every day. I cannot believe it’s been nine months. The shortest amount of time that has taken you from a teensy weensy baby, to a fun, silly, happy, playful baby girl, who doesn’t have a whole lot of baby left in her. This morning we went to your nine-month check-up and before we left Dr. H said the words I’ve been dreading: “See you at 12 months!”. It’s really just weeks away, 12 of them to be exact, and you won’t be a baby anymore.

I do love you my bug.

Mama