10 Month Terror

10 months. Kiddo is almost 10 months old.

It seems like he was born yesterday...that he was a little human pupae and now...

Now he's a terror.

I mean, Kiddo is sweet. He really is. And I'm confident in saying he's probably the most perfect child next to Jesus and Buddha but...but...BUT he's still a baby.

And he's getting into things. And getting sharp teeth that he uses on everything. And purposefully drops his food on the floor. And pulls all the CDs and DVDs to the floor. And eats paper, to the point that NO paper is safe from his tiny chubby clutches. And he whimpers. And he wriggles whenever I try to change his diaper. And he beams whenever I offer him a toy he likes. And then he swings it around so hard it goes flying. And he dumps the kitty food. And he pulls on the drawers. And he chews on any cable he can magically get his hands on. And he laughs when you tell him "no" or scream "ow."

And he grows 2 inches in 3 days. Literally. Thursday night he was short enough to have inches between his head and the table. Saturday he was hitting his head.

He talks all the time. I know he's trying to tell stories, so I respond as best as I can and this seems acceptable. I seem to be fooling him into thinking I understand. This gets him to talk more. Well, a combination of baby babble and real English words.

But he also cuddles, and hugs, and tries to give kisses. And he smells like sunshine and spring. And his eyes are windows into the Divine.

And we made him. He grew in me and came into this world through my efforts. And I think of that every time he falls asleep, twining his fingers with mine.