newsletter: month nine

Dear Nico,

I’m writing this as you sleep through a hurricane. Her eye is a couple of states away. Although the wind is high and there’s flooding elsewhere in Massachusetts, and several of our local friends are without power, we’ve been lucky with electricity so far. So I can sit here and type, and fret about your aunt and uncle in New York, which is being pummeled way worse than we are. Let’s hope they don’t float away into the sunrise on the rearing back of the Hudson.

This letter is three days late. You’ve been busy growing, and I’ve been busy keeping my work and the house from descending into chaos. So this month, bullet points. More photos (and a video!) over there.

You like:

  • roasted beets with goat cheese; roasted vegetables of all sorts; my admittedly fantastic beef stew; apple season; paneer; sweet potatoes; squash; in short, all the foods I’ve thrown at you… er, given to you—you throw them just fine on your own
  • the cats, and the dog at Michel’s, for all of whom you have a single word resembling “ack”
  • standing, which you’re content to do until your leg muscles tremble from the strain
  • the big drum & dance, as predicted

You don’t like:

  • having a play thing taken from you, particularly if it’s at all stick-like or a wash cloth
  • …um, ok, so this isn’t much of a list. You’re pretty much convinced the world is out to delight you.

You have the following new, mad skillz:

  • supported forward-wobble stand
  • an explosion of emphatic babbling
  • transport of food into your mouth using a fork
  • spontaneous laughter unprovoked by any obvious external event
  • rolling the ball to me, though you would admittedly rather eat it
  • leading imitation games, often involving the sticking out of tongues and/or a repeated emphatic TA TA TTTAAAAAA

You just keep doing what you do, ok, baby? And maybe the constant sleepy exhaustion will lift, and this month I’ll remember to take notes.

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