A Letter To My Baby (9 Months)

Harrison Mark,

Before I start in on your letter this month, I just want to thank you for kicking off month 9 with such a bang. Two nights in a row, you slept from 6:30pm to 7:00am. It. Was. Awesome. While it lasted… you’ve slept through the night quite a bit since then, but you now like to start your day at 5:00am. If you could move that back by even forty five minutes, Daddy and I will be positively _sprightly _upon greeting you.

I really understand now why so many people tell me that you’re in what they call their “favorite baby phase.” The past month has been nothing but milestone after milestone, and we couldn’t be prouder.

Your expressions continue to be absolutely priceless - especially the faces from our impromptu Christmas card photo shoot at home. You didn’t love the prickly sensation of the tree.

That red jumper you’re wearing used to be Daddy’s and I think it’s one of the most darling outfits ever. It’s incredible that it’s 30 years old. They don’t make anything like they used to.

You witnessed your first true snow and you loved watching the big flakes fall from the sky. You love to look out the windows and most mornings include some version of this. You often look out the bedroom window with Daddy and sometimes you look out the front window with Mommy as Daddy drives off to work. I could stare at your adorable profile for hours. It’s so perfect.

Your first Thanksgiving was a special one. You sampled some turkey and mashed potatoes and saw family and friends. We talked about what next Thanksgiving will be like - with you walking and eating everything on the table. We relished every moment and took way too many pictures.

Last week, you decided to break two I-teeth and a front tooth all at once. We’re still waiting on one of your front teeth and your other bottom tooth so for now we’re enjoying our little Jack o’lantern. Signs are pointing to you having a high tolerance for pain like Mommy because besides a decreased appetite and an interesting “intestinal situation,” you were our happy Harrison throughout it all.

A week before your 9-month birthday, you crawled for Daddy while Mommy was picking up breakfast. We were both terribly excited but since then, you haven’t really been interested. A few feet of crawling here, a lurch there but otherwise, you continue to be content rolling around and sitting to play with the toys within reach. We know you’ll get movin’ when you’re ready and in the interim, we’ll enjoy our waning moments of freedom.

We took you to the local carousel and you didn’t make eye contact with us once. You were simply too busy taking in all of the lights and sounds that accompanied your first ride.

I mentioned your milestones and you’re hitting them with ease. You’re emphatically waving bye-bye and babbling up a storm. Daddy thinks you’ll be a talker like me. We’ll see. We’ve extracted a few “mas” and “das” but your favorite syllable seems to be “baba.” You’re really interacting with toys and passing toys back to me. You’re starting to push your own arm through your shirt sleeve which helps me out quite a bit. Thanks for that, bud.

If I leave the room for a minute, you start to crack up. I know Griff has come in to keep an eye on you. He’ll peek over your playpen and stomp his feet at you, trying to start a game. You shriek, laugh, and cackle. I can’t help but crack up at the two of you.

Your hair has really grown over the last month and everyone comments on the tiny curls behind your ear. I think they’re absolutely darling. I will have them trimmed a bit in a few months but for now, I’m content tucking them behind your ear.

We’ve been taking you to more and more activities around town as you get older and more interested. We brought you to the local tree lighting, which you seemed to enjoy besides the biting cold weather.

You’re in your 12-18 month clothing which is a bit sad for me since the label says “toddler.” You cannot possibly be close to being a toddler. It’s not even funny. I still have a lot of fun dressing you, even though your adorable jeans limit your crawling a bit. I want to get you jeggings but Daddy put a stop to that.

Right before your 9-month birthday we took a road trip tp Cape Cod. I know I’ve mentioned what a superb road-tripper you are but I have to say it again. You were a trooper. Mommy only had to entertain you in the backseat for an hour out of a combined 8+ hour drive from Friday to Sunday.

You saw Great Nan and we ate out at restaurants. You slept beautifully in your travel crib and explored Great Nan’s house. You saw and toured a WWII battleship.

If you were fighting back then, we think you’d be a gunner.

I thought Daddy was into the battleship tour but YOU. Forget it. You clapped and swung your feet and shreiked with delight around every corner of the ship not dissimilar the one your Great Grampa Harrison served on so long ago.

We are SO looking forward to your first Christmas next week. Santa will surely be good to you since you’ve be nothing but a perfect baby for us. Especially the last couple of months. You’re napping twice a day like a charm, and putting yourself to sleep within minutes of laying your head down. What a change from late summer. A welcome change, believe me. Don’t go back there. Please.

The next few months are sure to be chock full of more fun.

You enjoying standing up on your own, even though you can’t get there yourself quite yet. We’ll continue to hang on your every coo and babble. Mommy and Daddy had such a wonderful life before you came along but now our life is blessed beyond words becase we wake up to your joyful self each and every morning.

You continue to be you, and we’ll continue to love you larger and deeper with hearts we didn’t know could stretch so wide.

Merry (almost) Christmas, my world. I love you.

Love like a freight train,

Mommy & Daddy

P.S. I am well aware this letter is 6 days late. That’s a record, even for me. I blame the Christmas madness!

P.P.S. Follow along with all of Harrison’s letters. 6-weeks, 2-months, 3-months, 4-months, 5-months, 6-months, 7-months, 8-months! Phew.

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