Letters to Liam - Months 7 + 8

Dear Liam,



Methinks I might take too many pictures.



North Carolina was a success. You were fanTAStic on the plane rides, all four of them. I strapped you into the Bjorn, and we whisked through the airports (well, as much as one can whisk with all that baby gear and a stroller). On the flights, you either slept, or flirted shamelessly with all the other passengers. I had such wicked pleasure in boarding early because of you, and then watching the other passengers board. Their faces would pale or harden visibly when they caught sight of an infant of their flight. Then you'd stand on my lap and laugh and laugh at all the other people. They were charmed, the jaded travelers too. We were incredibly proud to be your parents, and we were so lucky to have Lulu traveling with us. She kept you entirely entertained. I'm thinking you're already in love with those blondes.







For a whole week, we got to play together and bask in you. You were game for just about everything. True to my predictions, you're showing every promise of being a beach baby. You loved the water.



You were awesome in the restaurants, when we were on our quest for some good raw bar offerings. You had a great time when we packed you up and took you to the beach in the high winds and the stinging sand. The ocean was too rough, even for us grownups, but you loved the pool. And as long as you had your surfing hippopotamus, you were delighted. You discovered splashing, much to your surprise.



As excellent as you were during the day, you were equally horrid during the night. Oy. Oy. Oy. You reverted back into the sleepless beast. You were up three times a night. And you were up for good by 5am. And I, my dear child, was practically comatose. Thank goodness for your Daddy, who was also up early in the mornings. He would take you out, either to watch cartoons, or out in the car to check out the fishing, leaving me to catch some precious sleep. But we loved keeping you entertained 24/7. Really. We'll have to teach you Garbage, the world's best card game soon. It's due to that addictive and highly contentious game that we were up so late every night.



How much fun are you having? Seems like plenty. In the past couple of months, you've developed your own laugh, and your own sense of humor. More on that later.



You are so full of life now, and so impatient unless you are on the go. Oh, did not mention the crawling? You are ALL OVER the place. Fast. You can catch a kitty, with differing results, depending on which kitty you catch. You are into everything. And you especially love shoes. Eating them, I mean. Even your dad's chef shoes. Eeew.



Halloween is approaching, and we've got you in pre-gaming mode, since you have a number of Halloween outfits. Next to Christmas, Halloween is where its at. Not that you get any candy. Feel free to add it to your list of topics needing therapy, but no way are you getting candy little man.



Around the end of September, I realized you had never crawled around in the grass. Well. You had such a good time! First, you accidentally rolled down the hill. The land wasn't level. Then you discovered that blades of grass could be picked and eaten. Oh joy!



You're sleeping better, but not great. At the end of seven months, I could wish you'd continue to sleep until 6, which you've done a couple of times. But you do have hair now, which is surprising to me when I look at pictures from two month ago. You were such a baldie! You are the superstar ant the main attraction at work. You're loved, even by the people who were wary of you at first. Still.




You are bored at work with me. Bored. Bored. Bored. By 3pm every day, you've had it. You need interaction with kids your own age, and a break from being in my office all day. So it is with conviction, but a heavy heart that I am looking for daycare for you. We're on two dozen waiting lists. There was one place with an opening, but the less said about that place, the better. So we wait.



You are standing and clapping and waving and altogether the bestest baby ever. I practically live for bathtime, funny little man. GO TO SLEEP!

love,
Mama