Benjamin: Month 10


Today you are 10 months old! Ten months! That’s awfully close to being 1, son. I’m not sure how I feel about this (sad, I feel sad).


You had a really good month. You were generally healthy (today being an exception to that) for the first time in a while, which was a refreshing change. You embraced mobility this month meaning no more short distance crawling, you crawl absolutely everywhere. You pursue toys and specs of dust that you think could be edible and especially the poor cat, who you love most of all. We left you with Grandma T on Saturday and apparently you dedicated your day to learning to pull to stand. Now you are some sort of standing machine. You cannot be stopped.




You also got three teeth this month, and you’ve started using some baby signs (more and all done). It almost sounds like you say Elijah whenever we call him, but it’s not consistent or clear enough to call it an actual word yet. You clap with gusto, but you’re not waving yet. As with each of your brothers, this is the age where I realize that we just don’t wave that often. So we are working on it and I suspect you’ll get it soon.


Your personality continues to be generally very sunny, especially when you’re home or with people you’re familiar with. This month ushered in some intense stranger danger and not insignificant separation anxiety, so instead of smiling at strangers, you tend to give them suspicious side eye. You remain uncertain about your Grandad, who, trust me son, loves you very much. You’ve got to let him love you.



Your sleep continues to be terrible and likely 10 months will be the age we sleep train you because buddy, your mom is tired. Often you wake up 4 or more times a night, which, no. It’s just not a thing we do. Sleep is great. Honestly, some mornings I can’t even remember how many times you got up because I’m that tired. So just brace yourself, because we are going to sort this out this month.


Your likes this month include: the bath, Mom, Dad, your brothers and the cat, Cheerios and some puffs, purees, standing, balls, books especially if you can eat them, any chewable item you can hold and gnaw on, nursing.


Your dislikes this month include: when Mom leaves the room, when Mom tries to substitute nursing at night with a pacifier, when the cat moves out of reach, diaper changes, when Mom sweeps the things you’ve grabbed off the floor out of your mouth (which I would not have to do if you’d stop trying to eat fuzz and blades of grass).


I’m noticing that you’re starting to babble the same sounds consistently for certain things and while it is so cool to watch you learn things, it’s also breaking my heart that your babyhood is almost gone. That soon those syllables will become words, just like your brothers. I have done absolutely nothing to encourage you to stand or walk because I’m not ready for you to do that, but you are so determined. Babies don’t walk and you are a baby. My last baby.


Somewhat unexpectedly (from a grand scheme, it was planned) I stopped working this month and am now staying home with you and with your brothers when they’re not at school. It’s not the plan I had for life right now but I feel really lucky to get to do it. The time I’m getting with you is irreplaceable and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. We go everywhere together now and it’s really pretty great. I feel like I know you more now than I did a month ago and hey you’re pretty great (but I already knew that).


As the countdown to your birthday comes screaming towards us, I’m trying to savor these days and these memories. Of a time before you were kid like your brothers, of the last days and weeks of infancy. This time is fleeting, really it’s almost gone, and it is also the most precious. I know I won’t always be your favorite person or the place you are most comfortable, so I’m doing the best to savor every snuggle, even the ones at 2am.


It really wouldn’t matter if the first year was 12 months or 100, it would never be enough. There’s never enough days with you, never enough smiles, never enough time. The love we have for you, all of us, could fill any amount of space or time. It’s infinite and unfailing. Your heart is so intertwined with mine that without yours, I don’t know how mine would beat.


Benjamin Andrew, I love you more than (almost, your brothers and dad are also great) anything in this whole world. And I can’t wait to see what next month brings.



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