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Seven months of Biscuit.

2009-01-05 - 9:07 p.m.

During the 90s, I was aware I’d be 27 when the calendar rolled over into the new millennium. I never really looked beyond that because I couldn’t imagine what my life would be like when I was that old, let alone older. Likewise, I’ve been aware for a long time that you, Biscuit, would be 6 months old for your first Christmas, so I can hardly believe it’s come and gone and now you’ve already hit the 7-month mark.

It may seem too early to wax nostalgic about where the time has gone and how old you’re getting so quickly, but we met your brand-new, 1-month-old cousin a few days ago and you suddenly seemed huge and SO OLD in comparison. He was still making those newborn squeaks. He was half your size and his legs were still folded like those of a plucked chicken. He couldn’t smile yet and spent almost the whole day sleeping, stirring only to eat and be changed.

You were big and robust, looking around with bright eyes and a wide smile. If left on the floor now, there's a good chance you'll be at least several feet from your original position if we look away for more than a few seconds. You cooed and burbled and practiced your vowel sounds (which have emerged, roughly in order, as D, B, G, M, P, F, and N – and some spraying of saliva either with your lips flapping or your lower lip tucked under your top gums that isn’t really a true vowel – so far). You sprang up and down like a ballet dancer, squealing with delight, in your beloved Jolly Jumper.

You wore a real shirt and pants instead of your customary one-piece footsie and looked like a little boy, albeit a bald little boy with no neck, making the top of your collar sit halfway up your ears.

You are a lovely, good natured baby that delights all around you. I swear you grow more adorable all the time, and, frankly, I wouldn’t have said it was possible to be cuter than you already were.

Half an hour ago I was with you in bed. You sleep where your sister did for the first year-and-a-bit of her life: basically in my armpit. You lie against my ribs and waist, protected by arm outstretched over your head, often with your outside arm parallel to mine so that you can feel the solid warmth of your daddy’s side too and know that all is right with the world and your parents are where they’re supposed to be, right there beside you.

I knew it really was too early for me to go to bed for the night, but I was reluctant to leave you. It brought to mind that Aerosmith song that goes:
I don’t want to close my eyes.
I don’t want to fall asleep.

‘Cause I’d miss you baby.
And I don’t want to miss a thing.

But, I wanted to come down and write this entry, so I tore myself away.

Before - After


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