Tuesday, August 6, 2013

Dear Dominic,

You are nine months old today.  A week ago you were in the light of this world for exactly as long as you were out of it.

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You are crawling, with big Frankenstein arms, clomping one in front of the other, before you realize that your legs are still sitting a foot behind you, immobile.

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Your hands still go immediately to your mouth, tasting anything in their grasp. And you still only have four tiny crooked teeth doing all the work of a mouthful.

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 At nine months you are just beginning to grasp the relationship between tears and attention.  You cry and stretch out your arms, we pick you up and pummel you with kisses.  You smile and laugh and get what you want.  There is no connection between the word "no" and the consequences of not listening. 

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You recognize your name and the coming and going of the constant people in your life, the ones that love you and give you comfort.  Yet, you are still open to those that come and go, always willing to give a quick smile before returning to your pensive nature.  

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You love to explore and follow your sister around the house.  Often we find you screaming in the corner, under the coffee table, or stuck behind a chair, unsure of how you got there. 

You are always dirty, and thankfully you love a good long bath.

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You are such a trooper and a true second child.  You can entertain yourself for hours on end, put yourself to sleep and endure the constant torture of a three year old mother figure.

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Baby boy you are my sunshine, you are the constant calming temperament of our family.  Your laughter, in the rare moments of eruption, lighten my heart.  Scarlett and I will chuckle at any joke that comes our way, but you are deeper than that.  Just like your father, you chose which moments are worth making the effort.  There is something to be said for this pensive, thoughtful nature.  You are already a deep soul, passionate and intentional, curious and experimental.

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Happy nine months baby boy. 

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