Monday, March 14, 2011

Nine Months.

I often wonder how I'll color the past - ten, twenty, thirty years from now.

What will I say about you, sweet boy?

Mom-Mom is notorious for her anecdotal tidbits about each of her kids. I was a genius - GENIUS! - who spoke at the tender age of six weeks. (More precisely, she said "Goo!" and then I said "Goo!", which may have been a grand and lucky coincidence; I have been labeled brilliant by your grandmother ever since.)

Of course, I was also kind of an asshole. I tossed your Uncle Mike out of his bassinet the very day he came home from the hospital. Nevermind that I was only fourteen months old; to hear Mom-Mom tell it, I was jealous and quite obviously scheming to annihilate this tiny usurper. Anything that has gone wrong in Uncle Mike's life can undoubtedly be tied to this moment in time.

Uncle Ryan - lest anyone ever forget - never crawled. One morning on a family trip to Colorado he stood in his crib; seconds later he was walking at just seven months old. Always quick, that Uncle Ry.

So as I watch you grow and think and overcome every day, I hear my future, impeccably smooth-skinned-sans-Botox self chirping about the aspects of your personality that just always existed.

It's no wonder he's got his own travel show on Discovery; he always wanted to move. Even when you picked him up, his legs were always kicking - in frustration, delight, amusement, what have you.

It's no wonder he's joined the air force; he was always fearless. Flying was in his bones. He was always a delight on planes.

It's no wonder he's an Olympic gold-medalist marathoner; that boy was born running.

Sweet baby Hank, this is the month you became an experienced air traveler (your second, third, and fourth flights!). This is the month you got your seventh and eighth teeth. This is the month you started saying "DADA," and then never shut up about that dude.

This is the month you stopped nursing overnight. (This is NOT the month you slept through the night. I will remind you of this forever.)

This is the month you called me "Nommy." This is the month you were upset as Dad changed your diaper, and you cried out for me; "Nommmyyy! Nommmyyy!"

This is the month you took your first steps. My God, son, you make us so proud.

This is the month we marvel at you from afar. I catch you walking tentatively across the room (six consecutive steps may be your personal record). We watch you meticulously remove every pot and pan and tupperware container from the cupboards. You do this so intently, we call it "work" for you and wonder what thoughts are percolating in that ever-expanding brain.

This is what they're talking about. They tell you it goes by in the blink of an eye, but mostly it seems to last forever. And then one day you realize you're holding a tiny little boy.

An adventurous, obstinate, curious, enthusiastic, athletic, brilliant, frustrating, gorgeous, miraculous little boy.

We love you so much our hearts may burst.
Mommy and Daddy

1 comment:

Shannon said...

What an awesome post. And SUCH a big month for the little guy. That picture of him looking up from the plane seat had ME choking up. You've got a dapper little dude there. Congrats on surviving thus far!