dear peanut {nine months}

 

happy nine months, miss elinor.

oh little peanut.  you and your personality.  it is just too much.  and this is merely the start...

and have i mentioned that you are all over the place?  scooting and crawling and rolling and pulling.  your hands are always outstretched, reaching for more.  and that crawl of yours is so darn funny.  total army crawl style.  with a dramatic side-to-side swivel.  and you don't get up on your knees.  you stay low. and use your crazy monkey yogi toes to dig into the ground and bring your body into a semi down dog while using your forearms to pull yourself along.  it cannot be easy or comfortable.  but, in true elinor style, you do everything with your unique flair.

and about that crawling... it s really bringing out your mischievous side.  my oh my.  you love to explore.  and you also have a knack for finding all the no-no stuff.  cords, outlets, dog's tails, etc.  we do our best to redirect you to something safe and equally as cool but that very rarely works.  {i know, i know.  nothing is as enthralling as the unconventional playthings or forbidden bits.}  and so begins the "no".  and you are not a fan of that word.  not one bit.  you try to fool us by making sweet sounds and playing with your toys and then, with one dramatic flop to your tummy, you set your sights on your target and GO!  it is amazing how quickly you can get across a room.  and about one foot from your desired object you pause and glance back at us with a look that can only mean, "what do you guys think?  i am pretty good huh?  and i know that i'm not supposed to be going where i am going but i am going anyway!" and after you have sufficiently communicated your intentions to us, you lets out a "huh-ha!" laugh and go about your business.  beeline. for.  the no-no.  and then, as you delicately reach for the object, you are greeted by a swift "no" and a redirect.  sometimes you try your hand at it a few more times until deciding to relent and find another {acceptable} object to pursue.  but the last time you pulled this move with her papa.  wowee.  he snatched your hand and gave you a "no" and you responded with what can only be described at fit of "you guys ruin everything!"  you clench your fists, jerk your arm away from the parental grasp, tighten your lips, arch your back, and let out a guttural growl that resolves with a shrill shriek.  ooookay then.  our little 9 month old toddler/teenager.

but moments like this only pepper the landscape.  mostly, you are an entertaining and delightful doll.  and, even when you are being sassy beyond belief, we still find you pretty charming.  those chipmunk cheeks and expressive eyes and sweet little "ooooooh" pout?  irresistible.

you are quite the talker.  but your talking is much more sing-songy.  i like to think that you are an itty-bitty Disney princess.  you like to connect all your mama's and dada's and papa's and baba's with some delightful notes of ahhhhhh.  oh baby girl, may you always sing sweetly.  may your voice be lovely and soothing.  may you bring joy to your Savior and those around you.

your favorite sound at the moment is a ffffff sound.  whenever you see something that tickles your fancy - a book, art, your papa, your flower teether, your sophie giraffe, a piece of pretty fabric, the great outdoors - you draw your lips together into a little cheerio mouth, suck in a bunch of air, and let out a soft yet dramatic ffffff.  it is precious.  i hope that you always marvel at God's splendid creation, the creativity of others, and the simple beauties of this life.

and i must say that you are inexplicably enthused by diaper change time.  seriously.  is it the bare bum?  the cleanness of the wipes?  whatever it is, you go gaga for it.  you squeal and kick.  and then you flop from side to side.  apparently you aren't aware of the fact that it isn't playtime?  perhaps you are blissfully unaware of what is happening in your nether-regions?  things that require quick and precise action on the part of your mama and papa.  nope.  you are not interested in such icky things.  the air hits your baby bum and you are electrified.  flailing and giggling and having a grand old time.  what a wiggle worm.  the cutest little wiggle worm we ever did see.

love, love, love,

your mama + your papa

filled with glee.  and always squiggling.