Dear Baby Ike,
Two days ago you turned ten months old. TEN! I don’t mean to shout, but I have to emphasize it to myself somehow so I can really try to grasp it. For some reason, going from nine months to ten seems like a big jump from mostly-baby to nearly-toddler, and I won’t even try to pretend that is easy for me to believe. You are having no problem showing us how serious you are about the transition, though. As usual, I will catch on eventually – just in time to be dumbfounded by the next stage, I’m sure.
This month brought your second case of the sniffles. Well, this one I actually think solidly qualified as a true cold, as you were a little more miserable than the first time around. Between that and your first two teeth coming through, as evidenced here,
you more than earned those very first couple of doses of ibuprofen. The first time you seemed to like the taste, but after that you were less cooperative, which required us to get a little creative, putting it into your applesauce or a little milk in a small bottle. I hope that it eased your discomfort when you needed it, and I’m grateful that you haven’t had more than those two cases of illness so far in your short life. It’s no fun at all for anyone, but I imagine that not even understanding why you feel so icky doesn’t help at all when we keep coming at your face with tissues and damp washcloths to clean up the nose faucet and try (but mostly fail) to prevent the dreaded crusty nose. I know that there will be both colds and teeth to come that will be much harder on all of us; thankfully these initiations in each were not as awful as I probably feared as I realized they were starting.
I had just begun to think you weren’t going to bother with a true crawl before you started standing and walking, but in the past week or two I have seen you do a few deliberate “steps” up on hands and knees before reverting back to the army crawl/scoot you find so much more efficient. You are quite the little speedster with that method, sliding along the hard floor after a toy that catches your eye or, more often, the dog’s toys or water bowl. You’re getting to be such a little explorer. You’ve also pulled up to standing at the coffee table at least twice, and can stand for a second or five without support on occasion, though I don’ t think you quite realize you’re doing it yet. You will take a few awkward steps while holding onto our fingers, wobbling back and forth and giving us a tiny glimpse of your toddler days quickly approaching.
You’re continuing to develop your sense of humor, cracking up out of the blue at something I do or say. Sometimes I can recreate it later and get more giggles, and other times you look at me like I’m just insane, which I find equally delightful. You turn the pages of your board books for me at story time before bed and before naps on the weekends, and most of the time when we ask you, “How big is Baby Ike/Isaac?” you will lift your arms high over your head to answer “sooo big!”. You still like to bang your hands on tables, trays, toys, or nothing, so we are working on converting that into “fives,” both high and low. I’m thinking that will be what gets you clapping soon; patty-cake merely perplexes you so far, but peek-a-boo is still a big hit.
When I prompt you with “can you say Ma-ma?” you usually reply with either one mmmMEH/mmmmMUH/mmmmMUM or three MAs these days, and we are getting a lot more unprompted Da Da Das. Your babbling and squealing is taking on the cadence of conversation more and more every day. On one hand I am already wistful for the long gone days of mere coos, and on the other I am eager for the little chats about everything and nothing that are somehow just around the corner.
Love you so much, Ike. Looking forward to what the next month and every one after has to bring!