9 Months Old and Counting

On looking back, I can't believe how fast time flies. Our little girl is 9 months old now, and growing like a weed. Just days ago it seems she was small enough to fit in my hands. Quiet enough that I often leaned over the crib to make sure she was still with us. I've spent so many countless hours feeding, burping, changing, bathing, and stressing over her ever move. Lost more sleep than I ever though possible, and yet still wake up looking forward to her tiny smiling face. She's such a joy - I cannot imagine life without her now.

But, that does not stop me from wondering some days what the hell we got ourselves into. She's hit the stage now where she's pulling herself up onto everything. And I mean everything - chairs, tables, toilets, everything is fair game. And if you don't close the toilet seat, she's fishing in it. And I don't think she's gonna find anything in there she needs to be playing with.

She's also discovered she has a voice, and she uses it every chance she get. Nothing comes out at a normal volume now either. It's like listening to a tiny bullhorn with amplifiers. Squeal here, yell there, shout here, and who knows about what;. The wind blows funny and she's popping of about it.

Who needs a Hoover when you have a baby? Anything on the floor, or anywhere within her reach for that matter, is fair game. In fact, we nearly had a disaster this morning. A wasp had gotten into the house somehow, and was warming himself on the kitchen floor. She zoomed in on him with her little supersonic grazing radar, and nearly had him. I scooped her up and diverted certain disaster.

And now that she's moving from breastmilk to solid foods - those diapers are like disaster areas. She'll barely hold still long enough for you to get the dirty one off, and she's off to the races. It's an acrobatic miracle to be able to wipe her off and get a new diaper on her before she marks her territory on the floor, so to speak. I'm be glad when she learns that the toilet is not just for playing in.

Sleep is a luxury wasted on the childless, that's for sure. I've gotten used to running on an amount of sleep that I would have thought lunacy just a few short months ago. Sitting up holding her has become a given when she's getting sick, and feeling like a zombie warmed over even after a pot of coffee is nothing unusual. I truly think I will have a heart attack when she sleeps through the night on a regular basis. Although, with three family members who snore like freight trains in a very small house, I'm surprised she gets any sleep some nights.

I cling to my sanity with every last fiber of my being most days, but I know without her, that last strand would be snapped and that would be the end of our wonderful little family.