True*Lu: Jude: 9 months

I'm sayin it and you can't stop me (because I can't heeeaarrr youuu).

Can it be that Jude is 9 months? My baby-waby who used to fit so snuggly in my arms, and take naps on my chest. Who loved to calmly sit in my lap and watch the neighborhood/computer/tv. Can it be that when I look at him I no longer see a bit of Dave and a bit of me--I only see Jude? Can it be that even with soakin up every ounce of little Jude, enjoying and being present in every (ahem, most) moments, time has slipped on past? I don't know why that's surprising, but somehow--it always is. Shoot--this year I'll be 30, and don't even get me started on how that happened. But I digress.

Jude is 9 months. No longer small and floppily-moppily. Now his little leggies dangle off of my lap when I nurse him. No longer lulled into a sweet slumber from feeding, but now always reaching (my face), grabbing (my lips), pulling (my hair), and giggling (at my reaction). He sits himself up in his crib, but doesn't know how to lay back down and take a nap. When we stand him up, he wears the proudest of smiles. He crawls and likes to bang the doors back and forth. He no longer likes his diaper changer. He no longer likes his binky. And he no longer lets me hold him like a baby. When he's really tired he'll actually rest his head upon my shoulders, but close his eyes? Never. In these rare moments--I'll stand and rock him back n' forth, back n' forth, back n' forth--for as long as he'll let me. I sing to him Edelweiss, Tomorrow, I Have a Dream, and Twinkle, Twinkle. Dave sings to him Will.I.Am. In the car, he's always looking up out the window, and sometimes he'll babble to the music. He feeds his crackers to anyone, whether they want them or not. He kicks his little feets when we go for walks. He pushes off of me if he wants to get down. He points. He gives five. He roars. Pretty amazing stuff right? And all in 9 months time. ;)