Emily’s Musings

Dear Hannah,

You are now eight months old. We wondered when the day would come, and it finally has. . . you are officially out of your clothing that should fit a 3-6 month old baby. In fact, you have had quite the growth spurt. Since Grandma and Grandpa Probst came to visit over a month ago, you have grown an inch and a half, and gained three pounds! You are now 28 inches long and weigh 20 pounds. We are so happy you decided to grow! I was beginning to think I would have to call you “my little peanut” forever. You now have a new nickname. I like to refer to you as my “little bird”. You open your mouth so cute when you are anxious to nurse. You look just like a little bird opening its mouth waiting for its mother to spit regurgitated food. Yummy.

You are in the stage where you are deciding whether or not you want to learn how to crawl. You rock back and forth on you hands and knees, talking. I’m sure in your secret Hannah language, you are either giving yourself a pep talk, or discussing the pros and cons of becoming more mobile. Usually, you can’t decide if you should put one knee in front of the other. So in the mean time, you sit and think about it. Then you get back on your hands and knees and stick your butt up in the air. This makes you so happy; you can’t help but grin as you show off your butt. You eventually push yourself backwards around the whole room. You are now the official mop. I would classify myself as a pretty clean person and am quite particular about keeping our house clean. I think I do a good job at keeping a clean house, but you seem to find dust, dirt, bugs, and dog hair anywhere and everywhere!

You love your new found freedom of pushing yourself backwards all over the house. You try to get to the floor any way you can. When we hold you, you push, squirm and bend in half, willing to fall to the floor, just to get down so you can “mop the floor” for us. Your dad and I have to be pretty entertaining for you to stay in our arms. You love it when we help you walk. You smile and laugh like you are really something cute. Which, of course, you are!

Often times, you wake up and use a loud authoritative voice. I like to call this, “your voice of authority”. You wake up, and very loudly and confidently talk about whatever. If I try to talk to you, you just talk louder until you are finished. You let us know you are finished talking by smiling. I’m sure whatever you have to say is VERY important. I just wish I spoke “Hannah”. You have also decided it is your job to be the loudest person in the family. The dogs are not allowed to bark louder than you can squeal and talk (well, sometimes it sounds like you are yelling. . . but anyway) and the vacuum certainly is NOT allowed to be louder than you! Most children are afraid of the big, bad, loud vacuum, but not you! When the vacuum is turned on, you turn up your own voice volume. You speak in your authoritative voice to tell the vacuum who is boss. Don’t worry, you are LOUDER than the vacuum. I didn’t think that was possible.

“Teeth check!” is what you wish you could say. Instead of talking, you grab my finger, stick it in your mouth to feel your gums, and then I proclaim, “Sorry Honey, no teeth yet!” This activity repeats itself a few times during the day. I promise though, when we do a “teeth check” and you actually have teeth, I’m sure you will use them on my finger and I will be the first to know. Then I will call everyone we know. Don’t you worry!

You are intrigued with my long hair. Mostly because I always have it back in a pony tail. One day you will understand why moms with small babies wear their hair back. On the few occasions (and I mean very few) my hair is down and not in a pony tail, you look at me like you just won the baby toy jackpot. All ten of your fingers make their way to my long dark curly hair. Surprisingly, you are very gentle with my hair. You like the way it bounces and the way it feels between your fingers. I can’t say the same. . .

You are not as gentle on our faces, or with dad’s glasses. You are quite aggressive actually. Something I find particularly funny is you DO NOT like your dad’s chest hair. In fact, you have made it your personal mission to pull out all twenty of his hairs individually with your tweezerman fingers. I’m glad I’m not your dad!

Disneyland exists on Saba. Where could it be hiding on this five square mile island? The grocery store. Yes, the grocery store has a ride that can rival any ride at Disneyland. That is ridding in the shopping cart. Wow! It is so exciting to you! You can see everyone, you get to sit up like a big girl, you get to look at the whole store, and best of all, everyone oohs and aahs over you. You smile at all your fans, as you stroll down the aisles of the grocery store. You love to watch me put things in the cart. You make it your special job to turn around as best you can to inspect everything that is put in the cart. This is so fun for you; I actually plan to take you to the store because you have so much fun!

You rode in a stroller for the first time last week. You loved it so much, you literally squealed at everyone that asked you how you were doing. I’m so glad you are easy to please. You are just a doll, and everyone around you is taken in by your charm. We’re so glad you are in our family!