Thursday, November 3, 2011

Dear Eisley

Sweet Girl,

Here we are, eight months old.  You are rapidly slipping from baby stage into reckless toddlerhood.  Bittersweet.  I am excited to watch your continued growth, and I am excited to watch you interact more and more with your big sister.

You are completely mobile, and you are quick!  You still do an inch worm maneuver of sorts.  You can get up on your hands and knees and rock, but you haven't quite figured out that method.  Your favorite things are anything you shouldn't have, which there are an abundance of in the living room alone.  You can find the smallest bits and pieces that might be on the floor; you have been caught with tiny Ruby toys in your mouth numerous times, and this month you have tried (and LOVE!) dog food.  Go figure, we can't keep you out of the dog food, but you won't touch baby food.  There is a slight chance that a sticker or two might have been found in your diapers.

Other favorites include: destroying DVD cases on the entertainment center, yanking on curtains, and electrical outlets (all are covered).

Let me just say, something that has never been very fabulous with you is sleep.  I have learned to function on little.  What I haven't learned is how to manage my to do list with your nap...because you are a poor nap taker.  If I hold you completely still and wrapped up tight, you might sleep for an hour.  You are the lightest sleeper I have ever known; with a noisy two year old for a sister - that's a lethal combination.

Part of the horrid sleep (that has just gotten worse) is teeth, I think.  You still have just two, but your top gums look like they are about to burst with two more.  A mere two teeth doesn't stop you from enjoying your solids.  You have tried bread, puffs, shredded cheese, and pieces of pear and banana this month.

You get bored with toys very easily.  This is new territory for me to entertain you all the time.  You have the patience of...well, your mother.  I'm sorry.  You would prefer to be held and engaged all hours of the day.  This does not bode well with the whole laundry situation, which consists of 50% Eisley clothing.  You continue to have what I believe is moderate reflux, though I can't seem to pinpoint what triggers the horrid vomiting.  It usually happens at night,'s not just a little bit of spit up.  You can trash three comforters, two outfits, your blanket, and a pillow quite easily.  The amount of spit up after every feeding has all but disappeared; those pieces of laundry have now been taken over by the food-smeared ones.

You continue to look so much like your Uncle Eric, though we are constantly told you look just like your sister.  It's exciting to watch you grow and look and act so differently than Ruby.

You hit the 20 pound mark and the 27 inch milestone this month.  I only know this in such detail because you are officially the youngest member of our family to apply for a passport.

My favorite times with you have been waking up to your smiling face every morning, taking showers with you after you have ruined bedding (such a quiet time, where you just take in the silence and grab at the water), tickling that ignites fits of laughter, watching you bang cups and utensils together as you watch me work in the kitchen.  But my favorite thing of all?  Catching your eye from across the room with countless things and people between us--and having you reflect my own smile.

I love you, chunky monkey.  From your nose to your toes and everywhere in between.


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