It's like he's a big kid now. I know exactly how ridiculous it is to say that a ten month old is a big kid, but he's just so big now. It's actually gotten to the point that I can no longer hike with him in his backpack; I think I have a pinched nerve in my shoulder because of it... I will go to the doctor eventually, but for now, Valerie and I are getting up and going hiking at 6am so that I can go without having to pack Romey. Sorry, handsome pants. But he's not just physically big, he's reaching so many milestones so quickly now. He's crawling and pulling himself up; he's starting to say real words; he's starting to understand what we're saying. It's just amazing to watch him growing and learning every single day. I am actually quite amazed by the things that he's already aware of. He will look for us if Marc or I say, "Go find daddy/mommy." He can also find the dogs. He definitely knows what we mean when we ask if he wants some puffs, or make our hand gesture for puffs. Tonight we were playing chase around the coffee table, and when he couldn't find me, instead of continuing to circle around it, he stopped and pulled himself up on the coffee table so that he could see me. I called him a cheater, and he laughed and laughed. More and more this is what our nights are filled with: playing with Roman until the three of us are exhausted. He is drinking his bottle with Marc right now as I type this, and his little eyelids are just drooping. Another successful night of tiring this boy out... and perhaps another successful night of tiring us out as well.
Our ten month old Roman: still loves his Barnaby (I wonder if this will ever change), but Skippyjon Jones is a very close second; can pull himself up on the furniture; still crawls with his belly dragging on the ground; thinks it's funny when we chase him; knows that the cords are bad and will stop and look at us right before he grabs one (but knowing they're bad certainly doesn't keep him from grabbing them); will only step with his right foot; has recently found out how fun it is to feed the dogs from the highchair; has five teeth (three on the bottom, two on the top); thinks it's funny when he bites my shoulder and I tickle him as punishment (perhaps not the best habit for me to encourage); likes to use us as jungle gyms and wants to crawl and climb over everything; can say "mama"; can make raspberry sounds with his finger and lip; wants to explore everything; will wave his hands up and down frantically when we try to get him to clap; can sort-of use a fork; loves drinking out of his big boy cup with the straw; loves Panera mac and cheese; loves his puffs; loves gogurt; wants to feed himself and gets frustrated when we try to feed him; finally realizes that there are animals at the Wild Animal Park. These ten months with Rome have absolutely flown by, and everyday he learns something new. He is such a happy baby. I know, absolutely, that Marc and I really lucked out with this little guy. Happy ten months Romey!
And now a few thoughts from Marc:
Recently I've been a bit weirded out by Roman. There are a few pictures of him where he's looking like a little person instead of a baby. He's lost a lot of his baby chunkiness, and his big pile of hair sometimes looks like a Donald Trump wig. It's just a bit strange to me that this transformation seemed to happen overnight.
Recently he's taken to making "motorboat" noises all day. He'll just be there playing by himself and tooting along. Sometimes, when he gets a little irritated about something, the pitch will go up to an angry tone. It's cute, but I'd love for him to go back to trying to talk more often. At times it seems like forever ago he was born, and others it seems like it was just ten months ago... or something.
I hear other parents saying, "Cherish these moments because they grow up so fast, blah, blah, blah..." Well I do, and I love seeing him learn and grow, but I'm also really looking forward to the days when he can come "help" me out in the garage, play hide-and-seek, drive a go-cart, ask me questions, learn to snowboard (or ski), cheer on the Niners, laugh at the Raiders (I know honey - it's 2-1 vs. 2-1 - but the Raiders are still ghetto thugs), do arts & crafts, understand why forks and electrical sockets don't mix, and let me know what things I go do with him are lame or fun. I don't want him to be grown up tomorrow, but if he was 3 next year that would be super. This is the internet, so feel free to disagree with me in the comments and call me a horrible parent.
