At 9 months you are… exciting and exhausting. You pick up a new skill every day - some good and some not so swell. You are as sweet as can be and have figured flirting out nicely. You love to grin at older men, and then shyly bury your face in me, only to peek out with a coy little smile. You point at everything. Your range of noises gets broader every day. And my, how you move! You do a series of crawls, scoots, and slides to get to wherever you need to go.
You’re also discovering the art of the tantrum, you don’t like to sleep, and you cling to me.
You adore your dog and always want to be watching and touching him. This stresses me out because your version of touching includes large handfuls of hair, but so far he has exceeded my expectations.
You are SO good with your hands. You can maneuver objects and pick up the tiniest things without any problems. I feel as though you may have an artistic streak in you.
You are a petite little girl with awesome rolls of baby fat. You only weigh 16 pounds - at 6 months you were 14 pounds and 11 ounces, so I’m afraid of what the doctor is going to say about your slow weight gain these last few months. You seem healthy and happy though, so I guess there shouldn’t be anything to fear… right? You are still breastfed - exclusively. You’ll have a few bites of solids when we offer them to you, but we’re talking half of an ounce AT MOST in a sitting.
You have had a regression when it comes to sleep. You went from sleeping through the night, to waking up 3-4 times, to refusing to sleep without me. I might be dying from sleep deprivation. You are also a terrible napper and will only nap when held. Letting you cry it out only makes you more determined to stay awake.
Beatrice, it makes me proud to see your spunk and energy. I may dwell on the challenges this brings on occasion, but I want you to know that I wouldn’t change anything about you.