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| February 6, 2014, 3 days before your 6 month birthday, at Grandma's house |
Dear Wild Rover,
You love books and pens but don't know quite what to do with them yet. You wave them in the air, clamped tight in your fist, and, after a while, you bring them to your mouth to learn more about them. A couple times now I've had to spit-wipe pen ink off your cheeks. We received a set of Baby Einstein board books when you first arrived, a gift from the mother of one of your papa's guitar students, and I cracked it open finally about a week ago. The first book we looked at was titled Nature Words, and when we came to the flowers page you gave a little squeal of glee. Perhaps you remembered visiting the daffodils blooming across our neighbor's driveway on the first of the month with me, and reaching your hand out to greet them.
Yes, Spring is coming. In preparation for the warm weather and tall grass, you are on the verge of crawling. You're mobile enough as it is to cause me trouble, rolling and scooting and always at the edge of the bed the moment I blink my eyes. But, daily you lift yourself up onto your hands and knees and rock, ready to take that first step [of sorts]. Sometimes, you lift yourself onto your hands and toes in a plank, as if about to do a push up, and your Uncle Bobby is convinced you may do just that, so enthused is he with your sturdy boyness. I know exactly what it is you'll crawl to when you can--Lunchbox or whichever cat is nearest. You're taken with our animal companions these days and delight in digging your chubby fingers into their fur [when they let you, which is more often than not].
In the past week you've cut your first tooth, and, like Sunny Baudelaire, you're already trying your hand at biting. You've been eating pureed fruit and veggie dinners for a month now and seem eager for finger foods, or, at least, eager for whatever's on my plate. We share bites of banana at snack time, but it'll be another month before you get real snack foods like Ella. You're favorite foods so far have been banana, pear, and acorn squash [though I was less a fan of what the squash did inside your diapers]. You were not keen on brussels sprouts, carrots, or, least of all, peas. According to your Papa, you seem to have inherited my sweet tooth. I hope for both our sakes that is not the case.
Once again this year North Carolina March can't seem to make up its mind. This weekend after an ice storm in Burlington knocked out their power, your Grandpa Bob came back home to stay with us and brought your Great-Grandma Polly with him. They left on a 60 degree Sunday, returning to a powered-up house in Burlington [sooner than they'd thought would be the case]. Yesterday [Tuesday], the temperatures rose to 80 degrees. But, tomorrow will be cold enough to keep us in socks. By March I am always eager for warmer weather, but wary, too. Spring never lasts long. North Carolina loves its summer too much, and the humidity, heat, and sun that come with it.
Love and luck to you this and every St. Patrick's Day,
