Hello, little Ewok

In South Carolina the seasons collide and try to edge each other out for months...today we are "iced" in, but couldn't help but give Jack a taste of his first winter storm.

It's a beautiful day

Jack is sitting up like a champ these days, though he doesn't have much patience for being stationary.

Dear Jack,

Today you are 7 months old. On the whole, these months are stacking up quickly, but the last 30 days have been, at times, so very long. You’re on the crest of three big developments: talking, crawling, and teeth. Sleep is disrupted and sometimes rare. Your moods can shift from glee to sorrow in a flash. It’s like a very long crescendo, and sometimes I feel like a third string cellist, watching for the bows to go up and down, wondering how I ever made it into this orchestra.

But that’s not the whole story.

You’re so often the happy, good-natured boy who snuggles up to me, head buried in my neck, who lights up and kicks like crazy when Daddy comes through the door. Right around Christmas you started really talking, mixing your consonant sounds and babbling on and on. Most often, it’s a sweet, cooing “dadado dado dado dadada” or a pitiful “mamamaaaaa.” My personal favorite is the morning ritual we have – I greet you with a little song, and you whisper over and over again “huh…huh…huh…tuh…sss….tuh.” You blow out your “b” sounds while you gracefully move your hands around and around like a conductor. Hmmm…there’s that metaphor again.

Your Uncle Paul gave you some rigorous training in the art of crawling, and you picked it up! Well, almost. You reach forward and drag yourself with a little help from your knees. You get impatient on all fours and lunge yourself forward, flopping your way to your destination. Very soon you will put all these elements together. I think you’re pretty swift now – I can only imagine what’s coming.

You’re still almost exclusively breastfeeding. Every now and then I’m able to sneak in a piece of fresh apple, or one of those organic puffs. For everything else you seem to have no taste. You’ll reach for, pick up, and enthusiastically bite almost anything, but you make faces of disgust all along. I’m not worried, since you are thriving. I just hope you’ll like a variety of food one day. Maybe the food thing will come along when you finally get some teeth. I’ve felt the top surface of your bottom teeth come up and down through the gum for a couple of weeks. It’s foolish, perhaps, but I keep thinking if they’ll just break through, things will calm down a bit around here.

Just typing that made me giggle. We’ve only just begun, haven’t we?

Your Tired Mama (who loves you UNconditionally)

Jack.Hates.Food - (amended)

Jack doesn't hate food after all. He just wants to be in charge. :)


editor's note: the editor took the big bites first.

2009

from the lowest low...

to such great heights.

happy new year, friends.

Jack. Hates. Food.

You'd never tell by looking at him.
What with those ruddy cheeks
And the way it looks like rubber bands encircle his wrists
But listen to the harried mother
Who has tried in many, many ways
To give her poor bosom just a bit of a rest
And introduce her son to the delights of cuisine
(and come up woefully short)
That this delightful, beautiful child
With such a zest for life
And a tendency to put everything (and I mean everything) in his mouth
Will not suffer
The occasional
bite
of
food.

Dear Jack

Today you are six months old. While I write this, you are on the floor of your room, "airplaning." You stretch that long body of yours and cycle between pushing up on your arms, angling on one knee, and giving up altogether to roll instead. You've gotten quite efficient at getting to whatever you want, but I can see (and hear) your determination to move in a forward trajectory. I will blink one day very soon, and you will be crawling to me. Your growth seems to have levelled off a bit, but you've reached 20lbs, so it's safe to say you're still a big, big boy. Your hair is thicker and longer and lately I've been thinking it's "Biden-esque," with a little extra at the nape of your neck. Minus the bald spot, of course.

I've made some notes about all the changes and all you've been doing over the last month. The list is long - new friends, new experiences, new sounds, new skills. You continue to amaze me, humble me, and thrill me. You are not always easy, but you are such happy, happy kid. You're growing and changing in so many ways. But I'm not going to list it all here, today.

What I want to tell you today, my sweet son, is how much joy you bring people. You're a social butterfly with a sweet, sweet smile. Being out with you is one way to chase away any cold, gray-day blues that can creep in this time of year. People light up in your presence and you rarely disappoint. I feel like your agent or rep - lucky to be in your inner circle, where I can catch some of that glow. I love to show you off and sometimes I feel like a candy striper in a weary world. It makes me so happy that people's days can brighten at the sight of you.

When you gaze up at me when we rock, when I read to you, or when you're in your carrier, my heart breaks into a million pieces. When you fall asleep in my arms or on my chest, or even when you lean in close, my battery is recharged.

From my favorite book these days:

"How do I love you?
It's impossible to say.

For if I had a million days,
and time enough for all the praise,
I couldn't tell you all the ways...I love you."

I feel so very undeserving of the gift that is you, but I am never ungrateful.

Love,

Mama