He's pretty clueless of the milestone. I'm fairly taken aback. Holy cow, 9 months ALREADY???!? That's how long it took to *make* you! But for him, today was like any other day: swim lessons, reading, playing, bouncing, eating, napping. Typical day in the life. In my mind, it was another flash-forward by Time, saying, "Nyah, nyah! Can't catch me!" Slow down, you little f*^%er. (Time, not the baby.)
But it won't. And I know it. Every time I get frustrated with the overwhelmingness of it all, my former boss' words ring in my ears, "Hey, *you* wanted this." Yep, I did. And do. I wanted the sleepless nights and the poop and the writhing, willful ball of energy who won't nap without a fight sometimes. I wanted the shrieking, the drooling, the teething, the messy feedings (and inevitable laundry). I wanted the worry, the hypervigilance, the cringing at the news, and the crying at the possibily that any harm might come to my child, ever. It's not what you think of when you're picking out nursery paint and the perfect rocker. But it's part and parcel of the world that surrounds your baby. You can't have the perfect coos, the first smiles, the snuggling, and the warmth of his love without the rest of the crap. I wanted this. All of it.
Happy 9-month-birthday, little man. I can't wait to see where we go from here.
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