Eight Months

Eight months.  Right on the day.  Yipee!

This is the point where I can admit that I’m completely behind on the baby book, right?  Or the little calendar-thing where you can write in “first haircut” and “first swing at the playground” and “sitting.” I would have put all of those little stickers in this month, if I was keeping up.

With Toby starting school, you’re figuring out the routine of having mama alone every morning.  We’re getting to have a few of our own adventures, just the two of us, at a slightly slower pace.  When Toby is around, the two of you are figuring out how to play together.  He’s sometimes too rough with you, but you just keep on egging him on.  Listen up, kid, if you keep encouraging him I’m not going to protect you much longer.  It’s not very credible for me to say “Stop kicking, poking, or shouting-at your brother” when you’re sitting there giggling and reaching out for more. 

Just in the past few days you've figured out sitting.  Yes, you still need a few pillows behind you to slow your fall, but you're staying up long enough that I think we can call it official.  In any case, you've learned that it's a fun position for playing with a ball, grabbing baby puffs at your high chair (you can palm them, but then you can't get them out of your hand and into your mouth, poor thing), or pounding on all the annoying musical baby toys we seem to accumulate.

If your smiles are any indication, then your two favorite things are 1) Getting strapped into your carseat (Yay! We’re going someplace!) and 2) Getting out of your carseat (Yay! You didn’t forget me!).

Oh my goodness, that tongue.  You've got the happiest tongue ever.  And if you're really excited we’ll hear your “rock star grunt.”  That’s the tongue out, down to his chin AND a big ol’ grunty “AHHHHH!”  You’re ready for the road, little boy.