Our boy is nine months old today. Outside my womb as long as he was inside. It's amazing how much he has enriched our lives. Watching him learn and grow every day has been the greatest gift.
It seems that each day brings a new milestone. Yesterday? He signed "ball." His first sign. It may have been an accident, but he did it twice so it counts in my book.
It's so fun watching him discover things. Right now, he loves buttons. He sees a button on my shirt or my pants and he's instantly focused on it, using his little index finger to poke and scrape at it, and then look at me for approval. Every discovery needs our approval, and I love it.
Two weeks ago, I taught him to bang things together. If I take two blocks and hit them together, he wants those blocks, puts one in each hand, and brings them together just like I did. And then smiles and looks at me for approval. He gets it every time. I'm so proud of him.
He pulls himself up like he's always been able to. Reach, plant the foot, up he goes. He's not even shaky anymore. It's amazing how quickly something that was once so difficult becomes second nature. If we balance him just right, he can stand on his own for a second or two. But then he gets too excited and topples over. He's much more comfortable holding on with one hand, while waving with the other to show us how grown up he is.
His smile lights up a room, and the way he whispers Dada in a sweet little voice makes my heart squeeze. There's something about that boy that's just magical.