nine months

Dear Matthew,

I can hardly believe that already you are three-fourths of the way through your first year. You are a big boy, quickly creeping your way into clothes meant for babies twice your age. But I love your long chubbiness and wouldn't trade it for anything (except, perhaps, for a chance to hang on to your littleness for just a tiny bit longer).

This month was one filled with many firsts. You met a lot of first cousins during our travels at Christmas. And your straight, shaggy locks received their first haircut. You also, unfortunately, suffered through your first bout with type-A influenza, which you are still trying to fully recover from. It was so sad, and at times very frightening, to see you so sick. I also, for the first time, caught you sucking your thumb out of habit instead of as a source for soothing.

You now have a handle on the pincer grasp, though you still struggle letting go on command. So while picking up small items is becoming second nature to you, getting them where you want (i.e. your mouth) is still proving to be a challenge. You have also truly mastered sitting and doing so has brought out the incredibly content side of your personality. You will often sit happily in the same spot for hours on end and have thus far made very little effort to move beyond where you were initially planted. Scooting, crawling, pulling yourself to a stand -- even reaching for a favorite toy that has gone beyond your reach -- are all things that you show little interest in doing. You are so content, in fact, that this month marked the first time that you ever rolled from your back to front -- and you only did it twice! But for now I, too, am content to wait. You'll get going when you're ready.

At the risk of sounding repetitive, let me just say again that you are one incredibly happy boy -- my most joyous of an already very happy group of boys. When something (and often that something are your silly big brothers) brightens your day, you burst into a grin and sometimes a chuckle, and when you are really excited, you flap your arms. You are quick to laugh, and I love when you do, although nearly every time we get you giggling you are reduced to hiccups. And when you start hiccuping, it's our cue to take cover because it nearly always means that a splash of spit up is working it's way up and out. Your new trick of babbling, particularly when you are in a pleasant or curious mood, has amazed your brothers -- they are convinced you are saying real words!

You are growing up, Matthew, and there's nothing I can do to stop it, no matter how hard I sometimes wish that I could. But I love you, sweet boy!

Love,
Mama