Eleanor At 9 Months

Holy cow Eleanor! You’re nine months old? Already?! And at the same time: you’re only nine months old??

It seems like you were born just days ago. As if you should still be a newborn. Yet, here we are, three quarters of the way through your first year. I’m already thinking up ideas for your first birthday party. How can that be?

Sometimes it’s hard to believe you are only nine months old. The things you do. You are so motivated to be just like your big sister (who you absolutely adore) that you’re becoming more mobile, more advanced every day.

You say Mom, Dad and Hi. You also wave hello and goodbye. Mostly hello. And always with a huge smile, like you’re so incredibly happy to see whoever it is you are waving at. Sometimes you grab my face and give me a juicy, open-mouthed kiss. It’s the most adorable thing ever.

People – strangers even – stop us everywhere we go to gush over how beautiful you are. Even your doctor told me, repeatedly, in her most serious “I want to make sure you understand just how much I mean this” voice, how stunningly gorgeous you are. Those were her exact words.

You let us feed you babyfood twice a day – fruit for lunch, veggies and meat for dinner – but really love feeding yourself. Handfuls of Cheerios and frozen peas. Chunks of avocado and fruit (but not bananas. You are not a fan of bananas). You have a really good pincer grasp already. The other day you were eating fistfuls of rice and tearing off chunks of my muffin to shove in your mouth. Despite your itty bitty size, you really are a good eater.


Itty bitty. That about sums it up. Last week you weighed in at 14 pounds and 3 ounces, putting you at the first percentile for weight. Your doctor suggested we try feeding you more, although I tried to explain that you already eat a lot. It’s just your genetics, one more thing you have in common with your big sister. Your height is also on the petite side. At 27 inches you fall right around the 30th percentile. Sorry about that. Luck of the draw kid. Somebody has to take after my side of the family.

There are so many little things you know how to do. You search for hidden objects. You pull the blanket up and down in front of your face to play peek-a-boo. You tuck your thumbs inside your fists while putting your arms through sleeves, so that your thumbs won’t get caught. You can walk holding onto the outside of your walker or your little ride-on car. You get such a big, proud, happy smile on your face when you do that. You much prefer to walking that way – under your own power – than while holding onto my hands.

You have two bottom teeth and there are two top teeth about to poke through at any moment. I really hope you stop biting me while nursing, because with teeth on bottom and top, I’m just not sure I can handle that. And I really do want to keep nursing you, for quite a bit longer, if you don’t mind. Speaking of nursing, the “gymnurstics” act is a wee bit…uncomfortable for me. Trying to stand on your head while nursing just doesn’t really work for either of us, so let’s just stop that one, ok?


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