Dear Ben,
Here we are, chatting on the trail with Daddy and Sammy today. We were holoholo in the Tantalus trail system. And you were holoholo on my hair! You kept pulling it, albeit rather gently. Not the usual fistful being ripped right out. So, what have you been up to lately…You have been crawling for about 6 weeks now, and you’re standing up at the “workbench” playing, and pulling up on everything that you can reach. You seem like you’re close to wanting to walk, but then decide against it. You know you can really book it crawling, so you’d rather stick to that I think. You went on your first kayak ride last weekend for Sammy’s pirate party festivities. Just a brief little ride, but you seemed to like it. You stayed calm and seated between my legs for about maybe 4 minutes, then decided to head for the bow of the boat. I had to pin you between my knees while I helped Sam jump overboard and swim to shore from “Pirate’s Cove.” You’re eating all kinds of food, including picking up your own Cheerios now. Within the last week you’ve become a pleasure to eat with at the table. For a while there you were just horrendous, screeching, grunting very loudly, growling…just crazy if I didn’t get another bite in quick enough. I ate with a knot in my stomach all the time because you were SO loud.
Tonight as I wrestled you into your jammies I realized just how tired I am sometimes. You really wear me out, my friend. I am tired of doing everything fast – eating, talking, dressing, peeing, showering, thinking, working, weeding, rowing, running (ok, I like doing that fast most of the time). I think when you’re done needing me immediately, I will start doing everything slowly, and enjoy it. Many times you are like trying to dress a chicken in a knit top (picture claws getting stuck in the knit, flapping of wings, clucking and squawking…). You’re only wearing me out because on top of being mom, I’m also trying to work while you sleep, and I actually have more work than that time affords. So my personal life, work life, motherhood are all being conducted within the same 1140 square feet. It’s crowded in there, literally and figuratively. The membrane separating each of my roles is permeable. Very much so – not at all semi-permeable as it may be if I had a cubicle to retreat to. But this is the best of all those worlds, even when they collide.
I will close with how much I love you. How your wide-mouth kisses redeem your every vice. You have been kissing a lot of people lately, I should mention. Other babies, mostly girls, and even a few baby boys, and Gramma of course. You grab the head, then plant a big, wet, open-mouth smootch. It is very cute 🙂
Everyone says you’re such a happy baby, and you are, unless there’s food in front of you and it’s not being loaded quickly enough onto your pallet, I mean palate. And you know what else I thought of a month ago and forgot to write down? What does STRESSED spell backwards? D-E-S-S-E-R-T-S! Am I a genious? I literally cracked up laughing just as Dave was trying to go to sleep.
For the record books – you are 8 months old and sleeping well – 8pm-7am, with two naps fairly predictably. You have four teeth now – two up top and two below. Your feet are size 4 (you got your first Crocs last weekend).
I love you, Ben. I like seeing your little head perched behind me in the pack. Here’s to more hikes together!
~ love, mom
I am enjoying your letters to Ben so much! Your words really bring him to life for those who aren’t here to enjoy him first-hand. I love his wide-mouth smootches, and, thankfully, still have enough energy to change his diaper despite the struggle to keep him contained for those few minutes. I can’t keep him “down” long enough to get his outer shorts on though, so I stand him up and put his little “front paws” on my shoulders and “step” his feet into the shorts. Without doing that, he’d have sprung loose and crawled across the room to Sam’s train set!! After telling him to have a nice nap, he’s up and standing in his crib with a huge grin on his face before I can escape out the door. He loves to get under one of those tall dining room chairs, but as soon as he does, he finds he’s jailed himself inside the rungs and needs someone to push his head down and haul him out!! He watches Sam with a seemingly “knowing eye” as if he’s plotting a fast track path to doing what 4-year olds do. Ben, I love you very much. — Gramma (Oli)
How sweet. I agree with Gramma Oli. I enjoy your letters to Ben too. They are so sweet. He will love reading them when he is older. Sounds like we are on the same slow down journey. Very uncanny. I just wrote a similar post last night only to read yours this morning. Cheers to slowing down.