Newsletter: Month Nine

Dear Ian, Today you turn nine months old and frankly you've been in kind of a mood lately. Yesterday when I went to day care at lunch they told me you hadn't been yourself. They said, "He's been grouchy and frowning and just all around grumpy. Basically, he's been Not Ian!" And it's true, you were kind of a pill.

Don't get me wrong, you weren't flipping out or screaming or crying or even really doing any bad. You were just grumpy. I thought you had gotten over it when I came back today at lunch since we did some playing and some swinging and some throwing of blocks around the room. But when we came to pick you up after work you were curled up in your crib with tears in your eyes looking pretty miserable.

This is the beginning of many mysteries to come. Yesterday when we stopped by the hair salon, the other customers surmised you're teething (you still have yet to show a single tooth). Someone else thought it was because you wanted to eat food. Another person guessed you wanted to play with everyone else who was in our backyard last night. Rich wondered if you were sick.

But my theory is that you're at the developmental milestone to just be in a mood. Everyone is allowed to have a crappy day and I think you've just had a few of them lately. You've been growing by leaps and bounds, crawling all over and pulling yourself up. Learning how to use the remote control and trying to eat the dog food out of Mollie's bowl. It's a lot to handle for one person. So we're just riding it out right now.

You're getting used to the concept of solid food, thought my milk is still your primary food group. Just this evening you had some blueberry bagel, some chicken and some soup. It's amazing to watch you try out your pincer grasp working so hard to get those little puffs into your mouth. They're more exercise than they are nutrition.

I read today that this age is when you're supposed to want a routine and won't deal well with traveling. Good thing we're taking you to Oswego, New York City and DC all within a week for three separate conferences! Enh, we'll be alright. You've been better than the average baby all along and I don't think this will be any exception.

Love, Mama