I can't believe it's been 8 months already. It honestly seems that just yesterday you turned 7 months. The changes you've been through in the last month have been amazing. I've watched you learn new things at an alarming rate, and seen you grow more and more independent.
This month you started crawling. You started out pulling your little body along on your belly like a soldier and graduated to the full out crawl/run that moves you from point A to point B in lightning speed. You're a quick little bugger, too. So quick that I've had my hands full trying to keep unsafe things out of your little hands. You've also gotten very strong, and each diaper change has become a wrestling match. One night, I gave up and let you crawl around naked. You would have thought I'd given you the keys to heaven. You giggled and crawled from room to room, thoroughly enjoying your freedom.
Then, as if crawling wasn't enough, you started pulling up to standing. You'd previously been able to pull up to kneeling position, but you now pull up to standing, and even cruise a little. Last week, while your dad was playing with you, you were holding on to the couch, and you let go, standing independently for several seconds. You've done this several times since then, and, while I'm excited to see you grow up, it's also terrifying at the same time. I want nothing more than to protect you from every fall. I want to be there and catch you every time, but I'm quickly realizing that I cannot. You have to fall to learn how to get back up. And sometimes that means you get bumps and bruises. Each time you get a little bump, I scoop you up in my arms, and hold you, waiting for the tears to subside, quietly contemplating the future. How many times will you get hurt? And not just physical pain. Will I be able to protect you from the pain in life? And I know I cannot. And that is so hard to accept as a mother. To step back, and let you fall, so you'll learn to get back up.
You've also been quite a handful lately. Getting in to everything. Sometimes I feel as though you're testing me, as you look back over your shoulder and grin while pulling every toy out of your toy box. At dinner, you've master blowing raspberries, which would be adorable if your mouth wasn't full of food. I know you're too young to really know what you're doing, and that you're only learning how it feels to blow raspberries, and learning about the inside of the box, and what it's like empty. So, I'm learning patience as you explore the world around you, with all it's shapes, noises, and spaces.
And last but not least, you are daily teaching me to slow down and enjoy life. You're teaching me the joy of laughter and silliness. You're teaching me patience, responsibility, but above all else, you're teaching me about love, and it's eternal depth. I knew what love what long before you were born, but never have I felt it as powerful as I feel it when I look at you. You are my son, and you'll always be loved, no matter what you do, no matter what happens, I will always love you.
Happy 8 months booger bear,