noah | eight months

Dearest boy of mine,

When you wake up from your naps and I pick you up out of your bed, you wrap your tiny arms around my neck and hug me. Like really hug. A big squeeze.  And you lay your head on my shoulder. And it's the sweetest thing ever. You are never allowed to be too old or too big or too cool to hug me. Ever.

So.  Eight months old now.

You still have just two teeth.
You pull yourself up all the time and cruise along the furniture.
You also let go of the furniture because you think you can walk.
But you can't.
So you fall down and sometimes get hurt and then you cry.
I think you also cry because you are just mad that you can't walk yet.
You only want food you can feed yourself.
We let you gnaw on some corn and French bread the other day.
I'm pretty sure it was the best moment of your whole life.
You love the water.
Like really, really love the water.
When you see the pool, or the tub, or a puddle, you want to be IN it.
You aren't satisfied just floating around either. You get really mad when I put you in the baby floatie. You need to be fully IN the water.
Kicking your legs and splashing and putting your face down in it.
Like almost drowning IN it.
I love it.
You say "da da da da da" while I whisper "ma ma ma ma ma" in your ear.
But I know you love me more.
You are a busy, busy boy.
If your eyes are open, you're moving.  Or wiggling.  Or crawling.  Or pulling up.
Putting you to bed has become a wrestling match I do not enjoy. 

Slow down little man, you will not miss anything by taking your time. 

And oh man, do you think your sisters are awesome.
Their room, their toys, their hair. You can't get enough.
I doubt you'll always be so enamored by them.
But I'll let you in on a secret.
They love you too.
Yes, even Laci who freaks out anytime you get near her "special" stuff and threaten to cover it in slobber.
They love you so much.

I could go on for days about all the cute things you do and how much we love you, but I don't have that kind of time. You're probably trying to eat something off the floor or climb on top of the table at this very moment. 

Love you bunches my boy,

Your momma

Xoxo

PS:  I really should have thought ahead about how I would contain you in a chair for each of these monthly pictures.  No worries, your daddy was just outside of the frame catching you each time you tried to fling yourself out of the chair.