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Princess,

Mommy’s pretty sure that she is creating a monster by her constant and uncontrollable usage of this nickname, BUT I CAN’T HELP MYSELF. You are my little princess. When you were just a blob of an infant, BUG! was the only phrase that came to my lips when referencing your little bitty person, but now that you are mobile, and engaging, and PULLING UP, as in, TO STANDING and waving at your mommy with a mouthful (read: FOUR) teefers, PRINCESS is the new, more appropriate descriptor. You are our princess in every sense of the word. Mommy and Daddy are OBSESSED with you. Not in a creepy, stalker sense. Okay, maybe, just a little. We just can’t get enough of you. Everything is a joy. From finding you babbling in your crib, sitting up and playing with your stuffed animals or Custom plush in the morning, to watching you joyously shovel Cheerios in your mouth and then ever-so-generously offer them to your appreciative puppy, to witnessing your crazy army crawl to seek out any and all electrical wires that are just SO DAMN EXCITING (screw those child approved toys), to your cackle of delight as you hurl yourself off the edge of the bed into daddy’s arms, to when you stand at the edge of the bathtub, completely nude, beaming with anticipation as the water fills the tub for your nightly bath, to when we finally lay you down at night and you curl up like a stink bug with your cow-spotted blankie and just hum your way to sleep. Sure, you yell in a capacity that sometimes shatters glass. And there are days when you have ZERO interest in napping because the world is just too thrilling a place to waste a moment on slumber. And sometimes you will pull mommy’s hair, or cry uncontrollably if NO ONE IS PAYING ATTENTION TO ME, damnit. But that is just part of what makes you, you. You are a hoot. In the words of my great-grandmother, who would use this phrase to turn even my Uncle’s devious, rebellious behavior into a positive for my long-suffering grandmother.

Oh I do love a child with spunk!

It’s a very strange thing to mark your 9-month birthday. To think that you have been in the world for as long as you lived inside my belly is a very wild thing indeed. There are times where pregnancy seems like a lifetime ago, and other moments when it feels like just yesterday, Daddy and I were seeing you for the first time as a bitty little peanut on a sonogram screen and dreaming about the little person who was about to change our lives forever. And you have. And you are going through your first big life change as we move across the country. I have become ever-so-attached to this house because it is the home where we became a family. It is the home where we made you a part of our lives. I am having a really difficult time thinking about moving away from your nursery, that delicious room of cow-spotted joy and pregnancy-nesting-compulsion. It was such a total thrill to put together your room and prepare for your arrival, and it has been an even greater thrill to watch you inhabit the space and make it your own. Your attachment to that adorable cow-quilt is one of my favorite developments from this past month.

While I have been in a glass cage of emotion, I know that wherever we live it will feel like home because we will all be together. And I cannot wait to have you spend more time with all of your crazy, wonderful uncles, and aunt, and your Momar, Doda, Ghillie, Ranger and GREAT-grandparents. Because that’s what life is all about, the people.

You’ve helped remind Daddy and me of that. So thank you, Princess. And Happy 9 Months!

143 Mama