9 Months In, 9 Months Out

My baby boy is 9 months old today. He has officially been out of the womb longer than he was ever in it. Blows. My. Mind.

I won't have a precise height and weight until Nate's 9-month appointment on Tuesday morning but I'm estimating 21 lbs. Poor guy is finally going to get his 6-month vaccinations, for which we are embarrassingly delayed ever since his illness in December that delayed his 4-month shots.

We are now onto size 4 diapers as of this week. Squeezing him into the size 3's was becoming ludicrous, even though the weight limit is supposed to be 28 lbs. My ass. That 28 pound prototype must have resembled an apple - a short, fat midget perhaps - or else those marketing executives at Pampers are huffing paint.

Nate is fitting in 12-month onesies and rompers perfectly at the moment. However, most 12-month pants are a little on the long side so we are sticking with the 9-month pants for now. Long torso and short legs. But he is wearing size 4-5 shoes. I scored 2 pairs of Robeez in EUC from some local consignment shops and he fits beautifully in the 12-18 month size. Can we spell B-I-G-F-O-O-T? My little chubster can now adorn his cankles with some fashionable footwear.

Mr. Mobile is crawling and pulling up like a chimp champ. Considering he just started crawling exactly one month ago, he has really developed physically. He is much more coordinated and can crawl from room to room without a single misstep. He is even attempting to climb, lifting his legs after pulling up on stairs, tables, ledges and shelves. Heaven, help me. I am currently harassing the hubby to bolt each and every piece of furniture that could remotely resemble a jungle gym to the wall. Pronto. And recently, my little daredevil has started getting brave and is letting go to stand unsupported for 5+ seconds before falling onto his butt. The boy is fearless. I predict more bumps and bruises in our not-so-distant future. He's going to look like a drunken sailor soon enough.

He is quite the explorer. Getting into everything and anything. I spend my days endlessly chasing after him as he scrambles about the house. I can surround him with the most fascinating toys he owns but he will go after the one thing that is prohibited. Like the wall outlet. Or the wire to my cell phone charger. I say "NO" in a firm, assertive voice. But it usually results in a mischevious smile or prompts him to continue misbehaving. I have visions, or should I say nightmares, of how toddlerhood is going to fare.

My only concern - a slight one at that - is that he isn't very vocal. He can babble and he can string consonants with vowels on occasion. But he hasn't shown much progress since saying "mama" at 7 months. "Dada" seemingly escapes him despite 2 months of daily pleading. It's been said that infants tend to focus on one aspect of their development - verbal or physical - at a time. If that is, in fact, true, Nate is by far the more rough and tumble type. Thus far, he is a man of few words. I plan to discuss this with the pediatrician in case it has anything to do with his frenulum. I would hate for his speech to suffer because of my lack of action in getting it clipped. However, I was a late talker so it is possible he is following in my footsteps and will come around when he is good and ready.

We're now venturing into stage 3 foods, since he has been on strike against Stage 2 mixes for several days. He may be ready for more chunky purees. Or he may be ready to go straight to finger foods. If only I could move past my fear of choking, we could experiment a bit more.

I can't believe we are 3/4 of the way to Nate's first birthday and the obligatory celebration. I'd be lying if I said I didn't have several party ideas already swirling in my head. I'm leaning toward Cowboy but Surfer would also be a pretty rad midsummer pool theme. I know it's 3 months away but the planner in me can't help myself.

It seems surreal to even think about my baby's first birthday. It's been 9 months and I still stare at him and question if he is really and truly mine. Did we really create this perfect little being? When it comes to Nate, seeing isn't really believing. He is and always will be my miracle.

I don't think I'll ever stop questioning his existence. It's all so hard to fathom how he came to be. Or maybe I just don't want to stop. Maybe I want the romance to stay alive.