A tooth is born. Much like Mount Vesuvius erupted spilling molten hot lava everywhere, you have cut (finally) your first tooth, making your face a complete mess of drool and snot. Well, maybe it wasn't of the same sort of devastation as Mt. Vesuvius... You remain adorable, even through the crustiness. Along with your new tooth, you are battling a fancy new ear infection, your first, which was discovered last week at your 9-month well baby visit, when Dr. McIntosh checked your ears and declared your left, “a little scary.”
This was my first, official, “bad mommy” moment with the pediatrician, where I stumbled over myself for five minutes to quickly educate her to your lack of symptoms that would indicate an infection of any kind – no fever, no fussiness, general happiness of spirit, etc. This moment was quickly followed by another I would like to forget. When Dr. Mc asked about your sleeping, I shared that we were still rocking you to sleep at night with your bottle, a practice that she strongly suggested we stop in May when she saw you for conjunctivitis. I can’t begin to describe how the disapproving eyes of the pediatrician make me feel (fortunately, you are completely immune to this, so pardon this paragraph being all about Mommy here). That, coupled with a comment about her concerns about babies who can’t self-soothe were about to put me over the edge because here you are, in all of your glorious happiness, talking up a blue streak and acting like a perfect angel.
Your sleeping through the night has vastly improved, we believe due to the successful introduction of tooth number 1, although we’re holding our breath for when tooth numbers 2 through 24 show their ugly faces. Still, after three or four days of stewing over Dr. Mc’s comments about your bedtime routine, and two nights in a row where you clearly thought that bedtime was playtime taking over 90 minutes to settle down and go to sleep, we decided to start the process of teaching you how to put yourself to sleep at night.
This is painful at best, and really depressing at worst. So far, you’ve maxed out on the screaming at about 45 minutes on night number two, which is good because that’s the threshold where I need to be physically restrained from going to comfort you (which all of the books, through overt scare tactics, caution against), or where I am about to throw myself off the roof. While I realize that it will be good for you (and for us) when you learn to fall asleep unassisted, I still can’t help having difficulty managing with how sad it makes me to listen to you cry, and how much this goes against every mothering instinct I have. 
The books, again not so subtly, tell me that this protest crying is no different than how you will likely fight with me about wearing a bike helmet, or how you may become really steamed when your father and I try to dress you before an outing, or how you may be inclined to get angry at me when I take sharp objects away from you to prevent your hurting yourself. How could I then, as a good mother, feel any differently about the protest crying you exhibit when trying to fall asleep? I wouldn’t let you play with scissors or run around naked outside, so, why on earth would I perpetuate a bedtime routine that does not have you self-soothing to sleep?
So, this is what we’re doing for now, hoping for the best as we try to figure this one out. My hope is that in a few more nights you’ll have the hang of it, and not see your crib as the most terrible place on earth, however I find this hope dubious when just the sensation of being lowered into it makes you wail as if we’re pulling your fingers off (and no, I have not actually tried to pull your fingers off so I don’t know what you would sound like if I did). Amazingly, this is really the only time of the day that you cry, so we absolutely have nothing to complain about. You remain, by day, a happy, mellow, into everything and completely flirty little boy, which helps. At least this experience of “learning to self soothe” does not appear to be harming you in any way.
You have reached a major milestone at Play and Learn, your graduation from the young infants room, Jumping Joeys, into the older infants room, the name of which escapes me at the moment, likely because I’m still in denial. Last week, your daddy and I both picked you up on Friday afternoon to commemorate your last day in Jumping Joey’s. We took photos, gave your teachers presents, and generally celebrated this achievement in your growing up. I remarked to Miss Tanya that if I’m this sentimental with this small change, how on earth will I get through major events in your life like your starting kindergarten, your high school graduation, taking you to college for the first time, if that ends up being your bag, your wedding, if you get married someday.
It’s really hard for met to adjust to the idea that Tanya will not be caring for you every day. She has been a constant since you started at Play and Learn (Miss Valerie is new, having started in the spring), and has always had a special bond with you. From the first day we visited Play and Learn to begin your transition there, she has never failed to make you smile, and never failed to make me feel very comfortable with the care you’re receiving there. I have met your new teachers and they are lovely, but there will be a part of me for a long time that is sad about Miss Tanya not seeing you every day. 
This is, officially, the All About Mommy post.
One thing that was really cute about your “graduation,” was the collection of your artwork that Miss Tanya and Valerie presented us with on Friday. They had created a collage of all of your projects from January, which is something we’ll certainly be saving to embarrass you with when your first date comes for a visit.
I can see it now…”look at what a talent my son was at 6 months! His footprints show such potential for artistic greatness in his later life.” I think it’s safe to assume that you will need to give your dates fair warning of your crazy mother because otherwise, I’m afraid I’ll have them running for the hills. Father’s Day this year had us spending the weekend at the beach, where you swam in a way too cold pool and charmed the pants off of your grandparents for three days. You also discovered Chili the dog, and the funniest thing was watching you follow that dog around the house. Whenever you got within six inches of her, she would sigh as if to say that she was only humoring us, and she would walk clear across the room. Undeterred, you would turn around and follow her. This proved to be a great way to occupy you. For whatever reason, you abandoned your usual 20-minute limit with any toy or activity, and followed her around on the floor for considerably longer.
You attended your first birthday party this month, for Ishaan, a boy in your daycare class. The party was a Gymboree party, complete with cheesy Gymboree songs, bubbles and parachute time, all of which we both loved! I remarked to your daddy how fun it was to watch you play with all of the other babies and with all of the fun equipment at Gymboree. So often, we are actively involved in playing with you, it was nice to just let you go and watch you figure things out on your own.
On a final note, I have loved watching you over the past few weeks learn how to feed yourself finger foods. Having mastered infant and child CPR, your father and I felt it was time to start you on the basics. You have mastered Puffs and we’re planning some other fun gastronomic experiences for you involving mashed avocado and way too cooked carrots very soon. Introducing new foods to you and watching you establish your own clear preferences is so exciting to me. As cooking and learning more about food continue to become established as my hobbies of choice, I am so happy that you’re so into trying new things and seem to like a broad variety of foods so far. I am so hoping that this continues and can be something we share, as you get older.
I love you, even if all you’ll eat are chicken fingers when you’re two,
Mommy
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