You’re such a rock star. My favourite thing in the world right now is watching you dance. Whenever I play some good tunes on the jambox, you stand up, throw one hand in the air and start bopping to the beat. It’s hilarious and I love watching you enjoy yourself.
Then when I pick you up so we can dance together, you scream and kick in delight. It’s like you think you can fly.
You’re nine months old now and still a big-hearted little baby — making sure that you share every smushed strawberry and soggy cookie from your mouth to ours, just so we can share in your enjoyment. You still scream in protest and shriek piercingly when you’re hurt. I imagine things will get interesting when you turn two. I’ll have to buy earplugs for the neighbourhood, because you are fantastically loud.
You’re speaking so much now! I can’t understand a word you babble, but every morning you tell us stories and ask us to name objects in your steadily growing universe. It’s official though. Your first word is “mama.” It’s quite endearing (when not tragic) that you only use it when you really, really need me.
And today I’m pretty sure you understood the sign for “milk.” You were complaining while I was busy with laundry and when I asked if you wanted “milk” you smiled and laughed. I immediately nursed you and it’s exactly what you wanted.
It’s so nice feeling that we’re in tune with each other.
My dear, you are such a chunky monkey masha’Allah. You literally eat everything. I just puree whatever we’re having for dinner, and you’re good to go. Spaghetti, channa masala, chicken akni, lentil soup, shepherd’s pie — spice level doesn’t seem to matter to you. You’re a born foodie and gastronomical connoisseur. It makes me feel happy, and dare I say fulfilled, that you enjoy my food so much.
So you’ve moved into our bed. I knew it was too good to be true that at the age of three months you were practically sleeping 10 hour stretches by yourself in your crib. But with a couple of illnesses and the trip to Kuwait throwing off your schedule, you’re quite happy snuggled up next to us. Settled in fact. I don’t think you plan on leaving any time soon. This naturally, has made your sister a tad jealous. So she’s back in our bed now too.
It’s not so bad — but sometimes I’m literally clinging to the edge, and I’m not getting much rest.
But mornings are delicious because you wake each other up with smiles and hugs, and let me sleep for a few more minutes while you play together.
Seeing the two of you interact is so very lovely. You run after Eryn and shriek in delight when she comes home from school. One touch from her sends you into fits of laughter. You two are going to be great friends. Just. stop. pulling. her. hair.
My dear, I have to ask, what’s up with your new nursing habit? You stand to nurse. Correction, you climb my lap and wave your bum in the air while nursing. You’re dancing to your own soundtrack. Try explaining that to people passing by, as they stare at my circus tent of a nursing cover — shaking and moving and flopping the merengue.
Like I said, you’re a rock star.