Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Seven Months

Dear Elliott,

This Halloween marked your seven month birthday. October was a pretty packed month, mostly because I was trying to cram in as much activity as possible before Michigan magically transforms into the North Pole. We started out by taking you to your first Texas A&M alumni gathering. Unfortunately, this also happened to be a renewed rivalry game between the Aggies (where mommy and daddy both went to college) and University of Arkansas, our home state. The Aggies lost, which gave all of our friends a reason to call or text us and laugh at the outcome of the game. A low blow, really, when you consider the people you are taunting now live in Michigan.
We are also coming up on your first holiday season (which, by the way, is complete CHAOS in our family due to the number of relatives we have, how far away we are from them, and the amount of things I feel compelled to cram into the week that we go home), so I decided to try to start new family traditions. Ann Arbor is all about apple orchards and pumpkin patches, so we ventured out to the closest one.
Unfortunately for Daddy, it was also the most crowded and crazy one, with a country fair and petting zoo and karaoke (really, really bad karaoke). You seemed pretty uninterested and were a little doped up on Infant Motrin since you were cutting teeth, so in reality the trip was mostly for me. But next year, I'll show you how to feed the creepy llamas and cute little baby goats. Or I'll have Daddy show you, since he informed me that I was doing it wrong.
As far as milestones, you had your first cold, started teething, and learned to sit up. And your crawling abilities are pretty amazing too, which means I have to constantly watch you to make sure you aren't splashing in Jack's water bowl or cramming Dad's laptop charger in your mouth or trying to crawl down the stairs. You try to eat shoes and steal your friends' pacifiers and if I don't watch you with Jack you WILL lick his back. Which, by the way, is so GROSS- and even though Jack runs away when he sees you I think he likes when you do this because you always manage to lick the spot he can't reach.
Once we got home with some pumpkins, I decided to let you in on the experience by bringing you outside when we carved them. I dressed you in play clothes and put you on a blanket while we sat up, and you promptly crawled off of it and proceeded to try to eat all the leaves around you.
I let you touch the pumpkin guts, which were freezing, and you were interested for half a second and then started trying to eat leaves again. I finally put you in a chair beside the pumpkin guts and let you put your hand in the bowl, and proceeded to watch you shove raw pumpkin in your mouth, cringe, and then repeat. You obviously did not like how it tasted, but kept putting it in your mouth until I finally pulled the bowl away so that you would stop eating the stuff.
I made your halloween costume the week before Halloween. It was not my best effort, but I was glad that I didn't spend money on a costume that two people would have seen you wear. Next year, when you are walking around we will beg for candy from our neighbors in a much better costume. And I will not buy 5 bags of candy either, because I have had Snickers and KitKats for lunch everyday so far this week.
You have started to show preferences for things in the last month, too. You have a favorite food- Blueberry fruit puffs, a favorite person- Daddy, and a favorite toy-Nesting cups. You want to drink from a cup by yourself. When I go get you in the morning you are always peeking over your crib bumpers, waiting for me to pick you up and smiling and kicking in delight when you see me. You think that sticking your tongue out is the way to greet Daddy, because he has done it for the last few months to get you to laugh. You hate when I take away things you aren't supposed to have, when I feed you peas, and when I throw you into the air (most kids love this! I think you suspect my lack of coordination). I love watching you unfold into a little boy.

Love,

Momma