Eight

I'm a delinquent mother and didn't write Chou Chou her seventh month blog post. In my defense, we flew out to Manitoba that day, so it's not like I was around a computer to jot down a few notes. But alas, now when I try and think of my seven month old baby, few specifics come to mind. She'll just have to live with her eight month blog post. I don't think she'll be too scarred by me missing a month, will she? (note to self, convert RESPs to therapy fund, just in case).

At eight months, wee Chou, you are one happy, smiley, interactive and active baby. In the last two weeks you've learned to not only pull yourself up on everything and anything, but also move hand over hand along the couch or any other object you pull yourself up on (like Lt. Dan, me, your daddy, the laundry basket, the list goes on). While you're pretty confident on your feet, you're also fearless and indiscriminate as to the stability of the objects you use, thus landing on your butt more times than I care to count. When you fall you look at me as if I'm to blame. I hope I don't have to get used to that.



Your fine motor skills have developed rapidly this month. You make your way across the floor from tiny speck to tiny speck, a criticism of my housecleaning perhaps. Your favorite things to chew on are the phone cord, the padded mats down on the floor to protect your precious melon (of which we'd rather you didn't chew on, who knows what chemical they're made of) and the wooden puzzle pieces shaped like farm animals. The drool factor has increased exponentially these last two weeks, but alas you are still toothless. I didn't get my first teeth until nine or ten months, so it looks like you take after me. The hair, oh your hair, is growing, a few tiny curls at the back of your head sit as a promise of what's to come. In the meantime, your crazy wispy hair is growing like mad on the top of your head creating a halo of white fuzz - again, something you get from me.



Your favorite foods are breastmilk, breastmilk, breastmilk and then maybe squash, lentils and oatmeal/raisin/cinnamon porridge. For the most part though, you have very little interest in eating solids, but I still try to feed you twice a day. Mostly, I fail, and you simply taste the food and then chew on your sippy cup. Apparently your cousins didn't like solids much until 12 months, so I try not to get too worked up about it. You'll eat when you're ready. It's not like you've got chompers to chew with anyway.



Bedtime is a bit of a treat these days - well, last night you went down like an angel - but the last few nights you started protesting before the last book was even read. This is what we do - daddy gives you your bath, mum dries you off, dresses you and hands you back to daddy, daddy reads three books to you, then passes you back to me for a nurse and a cuddle and down to bed you go. Usually you drift off right to sleep, then you wake at 930 for a nurse, then midnight, then 2, then 430 then up at 630. Ugh. If you wouldn't mind going back to up only twice a night, that'd be super. I think my problem is you're so busy during the day standing on everything that you're saving up all your eating for night time (as you do nurse each and every time you wake up at night). Today, I'm going to try and get you nursing more during the day and see if that helps your sleepy time. You have slept 5 hours straight pretty regularly before, but that was before you found movement. The puzzle that is an infant! The naps have gotten better and more consistent which is making scheduling interviews, playdates and my showering/housecleaning/working out much easier; thanks for that.

This month you have let me know, without question, that you are a social butterfly and need to be out, out, out. You also hate your snowsuit. Those two facts make for some interesting attempts at getting out and about. We're trying though, I promise. You had your first real stuffed up nose this week, meaning that your playdate friends ostracized you. I don't entirely blame them, but you're on the mend, so we should see them this week.

I have no idea what you weigh, though I guess around 21 pounds, and you've definitely stretched out these past few weeks. We have an appointment coming up in just over a week where we'll get your official stats. All I know is, I'm still retiring a few outfits a week. Bah!

And lastly, my sweet baby, you are such a joy. I'm constantly getting told what a happy, content baby you seem. And it's true. You rarely cry (though you babble and roar to your heart's content, all the while grinning from ear to ear), you smile at strangers and giggle as you give five (your newest trick; waving bye bye is coming along but not quite there yet). You are a happy, happy girl, whose eyes sparkle when you smile at me and your dad. As you nurse, I snuggle you to me so tightly, so closely, knowing our months of you needing me this much, this often are drawing to a close. You'll be off like a rocket soon, and before I know it you'll be talking and spending the mornings playing at someone else's house. I love these days, Chou. I'm going to miss them.