Dear Ruby

To the Cutest Hurricane:

Pretty baby, you are going to be one the next time I open my eyes-it's mind boggling to me that you are already nine months old, and ripping apart my house faster than I can come around behind you as I play relief crew and clean things up. Next up will be walking, and I know I'm in for an even bigger wake up call.



You are crawling like a pro-nothing stops you from getting the things you want, even if they are clear across the room. However, if you decide that something else might be just as fun and it's closer to you, then you go for that instead. You can crawl on your hands and knees, but you're lazy! I often find you just crawling in the inch worm position instead.

You are also experimenting with pulling yourself up and have done so a handful of times-your preferred methods of support are your Momma and the couch. I'm not pushing for you to figure this one out too quickly, because I know that you'll be walking fairly quickly after that. That would mean that you are no longer my tiny baby and I'm having a hard time coming to terms with that as it is.

Your hair, although still quite sparse, is growing a lot. When I catch myself thinking you still have practically none, I just go back and look at newborn pictures of you to realize just how much that light-colored-red-tinted fuzz has grown. I can now officially clip bows in there. You should know, however, that I still prefer the big bows on a band.

We are experimenting a little bit more with eating. So far, I think you would live on nursing and cereal puffs if I allowed it. You're definitely a carb-lover (wonder where you picked this up?! Your parents eat healthy at all times) and I have gotten you to eat homemade bread, plain pasta noodles, and little bits of cheese. We got you your own booster seat so that you can experiment with food a little more.

The downside of feeding you? You only like to do it yourself, but you trash everything within ten feet of you. One day, I placed you in your stroller with snacks on the tray (this was obviously pre-booster seat era) so I could go clean up the kitchen. Suddenly I heard maniac laughter coming from the living room. I caught you feeding the dog as he did tricks for treats. You (unfortunately) have not forgotten that incident and I catch you all the time trying to get the dogs' attention. At the rate we're going, I'm going to have a 200 pound dog and a malnourished child.

We have discovered more and more of your personality that I call the "fraidy cat gene" (you get this from your Dad, I think). You are scared of the big dogs at your Ama and Papa's house, you are scared of the pigs we saw at the fair, and you are scared of cats, too. I'm not sure why, but you begin to shake and then pout your lip out and then start shrieking until someone picks you up and takes you away from the perpetrator.

Your favorite game is that fun one where you throw things and someone (usually Momma) continues to pick them up. This game is played repeatedly, all day long. Recently, you chose to play this game with a huge cup full of bright red Crystal Light all over my crafting stuff in the dining room. You can imagine how that worked out.

Your favorite toys are everything that you shouldn't play with. You especially love playing with my bottle of vitamins and can of mousse (this is my early morning get ready trick). Phones, remotes, and shoes of any kind still entertain you. And the [poor] dogs' tails give you delight too. The dogs don't love that so much. In fact, I worry a little bit when you terrorize the dogs and they run away from you in fear, because you laugh this evil little cackle.

I often tell your Daddy that we're in for big trouble when you get older. I say this for several reasons, but mostly because you want to do things that aren't age appropriate. You know very well what you do and do not want (and have learned how to shove things away from you-including pacifiers, food, toys, etc.). You think you should make the naptime schedule around here, and I'm okay with that as long as it actually includes napping. I also have warned your Daddy that you aren't going to find him nearly as funny when you're about twelve. I can see the dirty looks now. You have already figured out how to fake cry (you need to work on your acting skills-smiling while crying is not something people are going to buy) for attention. Our little drama queen.

You are the master of facial expressions. I could watch you all day as you experiment with those teeny tiny facial muscles. Well, that, and pray that you didn't learn them from watching me because some of them are doozies. As always, though, the grins (and of course the giggles) trump all-I could use a healthy dose of those anyday. They're especially great when you flash your two little teeth (third one is just about through).

You are discovering the world around you, and it's one of the most fascinating, rewarding, and inspiring things I have ever witnessed. I am thrilled that this will never ever stop, and I hope you never take the small things for granted. I know that someday, you won't think twice about that piece of fuzz on the floor or the way you drop toys into a bucket, but for now, the innocence and the wonder is such a joy to be around.

Baths are rare around here. And by that, I don't mean to say you are a dirty child and that we don't bathe you. Instead, I usually toss you in the shower while I'm in there and you play on the tub floor with your toys. It's easy and quick that way, and I can keep an eye on you while I'm taking a shower.

I know the next several months are going to be jam-packed with more milestones and fun times with you. It's hard to believe that you were that same tiny little lump of squeaky baby noises not so long ago. I look at you every day and thank God for you-you are an amazing addition to our lives and I love you more than words could ever say.

XOXO,

Momma