Nine months old today!!!!

Dearest Evie,

I forgot again to take notes this month along the way of all your developments, and as I sit down to write this I know I’m going to forget to include so much of what’s happened this month. I’m so glad I’ve been writing these letters for you because, well, my memory sucks and without your father here to remember actual events, if we didn’t have these letters your childhood would be an absolute mystery.

I think the biggest thing by far this month has been the real emergence of your will. You’ve never had a problem making yourself heard, but it wasn’t always clear what you were after. Now, however, it’s pretty clear. You let me know clearly that you do NOT want to be strapped into the car seat. Actually, that goes for being strapped in anywhere—the “high-chair” (counter chair?) where you eat, the swing. Being strapped in is not one of your favorite things and you certainly do your best to wriggle out of your tethers.

You’re more mobile all around, and although you’re technically not yet crawling, it’s pretty darn close. I call it the “moonwalk crawl” because your hands and knees never seem to leave the ground and yet you glide along with surprising agility. You’re just starting to lift yourself into an “official” crawling pose, all the way back on your knees, so you may be looking to evolve your locomotion method once more in the coming days. You’re able to pull yourself up on my hands and are trying desperately to figure out how to pull up on furniture. You’re not there yet, but I can CLEARLY see it in your eyes when you stare intently at the ottoman or sofa and your hands twirl in this characteristic circular motion that means your wheels are REALLY turning.

That’s something else that’s pretty new—the thinking hand twist. It’s a concentrating thing, like people who stick out there tongue or chew on a pencil when thinking. Whenever you see something particularly interesting, you hands and fingers start this slow rotation at the wrist, sort of like you’re practicing Obi Wan’s jedi mind trick. Anyway, standing is VERY exciting for you (and me, of course!), and although you’re wobbly as a newborn colt when you use me as a stand, you’re surprisingly steady on your feet when supporting yourself on the sofa. I think you take offense a little bit at the idea of getting too much help from me, and thus fight it a little when I support you, causing yourself to be thrown off balance a bit. When it’s just you and the sofa, you’re not as worried with proving that you’re able to do it yourself and thus fare a little better. You giggle and giggle uncontrollably when standing (even when struggling against my hands) and your joy is infectious. You’re a super wiggle worm when I hold you now, and as you giggle and twist, you have complete faith that no matter how you squirm, I will keep hold of you. We dance and clap now, and you can’t get enough of it.

You’ve continued to eat new foods, although here again you’re asserting your will more clearly. You’ve begun—I think it’s just playing—doing “blubber lips” when I’ve given you a full mouth of food, and thus cover me in baby spit plus whatever it is you’re eating. Not cool, Evelyn. I mean, it is pretty funny, but all in all, it just can’t fly and this month marks the first time I’ve made you cry by telling you NO. You got me really good with a mouth full of prunes (remind me to show you how this feels one day) and I reduced you to tears with one stern word of reprimand. I felt really bad, but held my ground. This is harder for me than I thought it would be, Evelyn, and ALWAYS remember that I do the things I do because I LOVE YOU. You weigh 17.6 lbs which puts you in the 25th percentile for your age. You're at the 50th percentile for your length and I don't think I should worry, but people have called you "small." This is something I'm still working on, Evie, but try not to let other people affect your self-worth. You are fine just as you are and people will always try to classify you on their own terms. God made you perfectly YOU, and He knows what He's doing.

As the weather is much nicer these days, we’ve been enjoying walks lately. You are so excited by everything around us; I watch your legs kicking non-stop with glee from my birds’ eye view of you in the stroller. I talk to you about the things we see along the way and every so often you throw your head back and gaze up at me upside-down with a wide, toothless grin than dims the sun. Laughter and more kicky feet ensue.

You are becoming keenly observant of finer details too. You hear the distant chirping or cawing of birds and go still (hands twirling). You hear the “you’ve got mail” noise while in your exersaucer and crane your head over to try and see around the sofa and catch a glimpse of what’s happening on the television (that’s where the sound comes out; the computer’s hooked up through the tv). I show you pictures or a new book or you talk to Paparazzi (Granddaddy) and Nana on Skype and you are soooo enrapt. Chokydar got a haircut last week, and to see you watch me cut her hair—you would have thought I was splitting an atom, it was THAT AMAZING.

We’re counting the hours now until Daddy is home with us again, Evelyn, and although you are super excited every time the phone rings, I don’t think you can possibly grasp how fantastic things are about to be. Daddy is way better than me at tickling. He plays most games better, and he gives really good hugs. You’re going to LOVE him, and believe me, he already loves you, more than you will ever know.

Goodnight my sweet, talented, clever, beautiful child. I love you. I can’t wait until tomorrow.

Love,

Mommy