Nine Months

Holy cow, what a month. This month was the craziest, most productive, most insane month perhaps ever to transpire, what with our move and Colin starting a new babysitter and me and Patrick with our new work and new house and new neighbors and new throw pillows and new new new new new…

This month felt like I just described it: like a run-on sentence. Like an endless algorithm. Like the Autobahn and ant farm tunnels. It just kept going and at a speed that was nearly fatal, but not quite. There was always more to do along each path, more lists to make, more to remember and keep track of. And that doesn’t even take Colin’s development into account.



On that particular front, the month could be divided into three sections, subtitled as follows: OMG TEETHING, Stand up and Be Counted, and Fondness.

Part One: OMG TEETHING

I recently re-read last month’s update and laughed out loud when I saw that I had mentioned the lack of teething so casually. Now, my life is planned around whether Colin is currently having a teething episode or not – if no, continue along previously planned day. If yes, immediately halt all activity, go home, and rock Colin for no fewer than four hours, using teething rings, OraGel, graham crackers, pain relievers, and any other thing within reach that might distract or calm him. Don’t get me wrong, the kid is still an angel and the mellowest baby I’ve met that wasn’t drugged, but he does have a threshold. Those damn teeth, they exceed it every time.



Part Two: Stand Up and Be Counted

I wrote already about coming home to a standing baby, and I wish I could say that the progress stopped there. It seems like a good place to stop, before they become truly mobile and overly confident, not to mention snarky and acne-ridden. Unfortunately, Colin continues to grow up against my better judgment.

He stands up easily now, pulling up on anything and everything. He has even started balancing for a few seconds by himself and has nearly mastered the fine art of “cruising”, which is walking alongside something while holding on. And now that he has a better view of everything, he aims to gain access to and ingest everything he sees. Having a popsicle? Pay the toll, buddy. Wielding a machete? Hand it over for taste testing. Nothing is exempt and he is very serious about his work. The poor TV and the dog food get it the worst, however, and are the objects of Colin’s personal vendettas. While TVs can be replaced, I’m not sure how good it is for Colin to have ingested the amount of dog food that he has.



Part Three: Fondness

The best part of this month has been watching Colin develop a visible and obvious fondness for the people he knows, and it is here that I must insert my gratitude that we were able to move to Indy now. Colin loves his life. We lucked into a great babysitter (Cheap and Close, for those keeping track – sorry I never followed up on that.), and not a moment too soon. He has started developing a shyness around strangers, which is a developmentally normal trait for his age, but would make starting a new daycare much more difficult. Luckily for everyone, he loves his new friends and his new babysitter. He fits into the group like he was always meant to be there, the youngest for now but not for long. The younger kids cover him with kisses when we come in, not even waiting for him to be unbuckled from his seat. They tell him how much they missed him and how glad they are that he is back. The older kids talk to him and caress him like his is a precious doll, too fragile and sweet to tarnish with their mouths and hands still caked with breakfast.



Another source of great happiness and relief is Colin’s blossoming relationships with his family. He goes easily, smiling, to his Grammy or to the Baby Mama. Upon seeing his cousin, The Best Nephew Ever, Colin squirms so violently to be allowed to go play that he actually gave me a rug burn the other day. Colin loves these people. He knows them and trusts them, obvious by his eagerness to be held by them, to touch them and kiss them. He leans toward his target with an open-mouthed grin, which quickly evolves into a long, open mouth – a request for a kiss.

In short, nothing could make me happier than the knowledge that Colin will grow up knowing and loving his family, supported by his community, and surrounded by love. This was my dream for him, from before he was even a single, tiny cell in my belly, and now it is his reality. The real title for this month is Gratitude.