Ha.

Apparently I can only blog about bad things. Because as soon as I have a post about how happy I am, how well things are going… it all goes downhill.

I mean, in the grand scheme of things we’re doing well.

But good grief Baby O was fussy and whiny this weekend.

You see, he’s trying to crawl.

I mean, his ENTIRE LIFE DEPENDS ON CRAWLING.

And crawling is the BANE of his existence. Because he just can’t figure out how to make his body work the way he wants it to.

Literally he is on his belly more than not. Every time we put him on the floor, he rolls to his belly and swims. And pushes himself backwards. And grunts. And fusses. Sometimes, if it’s within an hour of when he’s last eaten? He spits up, he’s working so hard.

And naptimes? Forget sleeping – he was going to MASTER THIS CRAWLING THING. And he was SO tired, my poor baby. But AS.SOON.AS I put him down to sleep, he’d roll to his belly. And work at crawling. And cry.

I finally had to turn him on his side against me and rock him to get him to sleep. For a full half hour. Wheee.

His single-minded devotion to the pursuit of locomotion is actually pretty cute. And it doesn’t surprise me, given how determined both J and I can be about some things. But it doesn’t really make for a weekend of getting things accomplished. And while I love holding him when he’s all tired and whiny, I DO sort of need some me time too. To wrap presents. To maybe shave my legs. (No. Seriously. I realized this weekend that it has been SIX WEEKS since I shaved them last. Let’s not get into how mannish my legs look right now. Eeek.)

But. I digress.

So in two days, my baby will be 9 months old. NINE MONTHS.

How did THAT happen?

Some milestone things which I want to share about Baby O:

1. He’s starting to self-feed. Which is pretty amazing, given that he still has no teeth. But he likes puffs and manages to get them into his mouth. This weekend we tried cheese, which he seemed to like a lot. And he’s doing ok with the stage three jarred baby foods – the fruits are going better than the vegetables right now. But so far we’ve been lucky in that he’s pretty eager to try any sort of food, and (knock on wood) hasn’t seemed to have any allergy issues with anything yet.

2. He says “mama.” As a word. In fact. He knows I’m mama. I’m still sort of amazed by this, actually.

A few weeks ago, when he was sick and J took him to the pediatrician, J came home and said “I swear, Baby O was calling for you at the doctor’s today.” Apparently when he gets upset and I’m not there, he would cry “ma-ma.”

And sure enough, his daycare teacher told me the same thing too. As did my SIL. When he’s upset, he says “mama.’

But I wasn’t convinced; a pout can make any noise sound like mama. And I’ve never been there to witness it.

Until this weekend.

He was in the exersaucer, and he was starting to get cranky. And he looked at me, put his arms up, and said “mama.”

Which apparently means “up” for him. But dammit if he didn’t communicate that he wanted me to pick him up.

3. We’ve gone a full week without nursing. And today I decided to stop pumping. Because this weekend I only managed 2oz in one session, which isn’t enough to freeze. Because my poor nips are dry enough that I’m bleeding again.

And I miss it. I didn’t expect that I’d have an emotional issue with weaning. But I do.

I miss the ease of being able to feed him in the early morning. I miss feeling that physical bond with him – that my body is providing him with something he needs. For almost 18 months we were connected physically, Baby O and I.

Really I think I just miss when he was little, and helpless, and I was able to provide him with everything he needed.

But anyway. How is it that EVERY post of mine these days comes back to my boo.bs? I mean, really.

That’s all to report for now. Baby O has his 9 month well-baby appointment on Friday morning, where I’ll get a better idea if all the food the kid’s been socking away has helped him maybe gain a percentile or two. I’m hoping for at least 25, instead of the 5-10th he was a month ago.

In the meantime, time keeps marching on.

Nine months old.

I just can’t believe it.