I know, it probably seemed like I fell off the side of the planet in the past month...I promise, I am still alive. It has been CRAZY TOWN around here lately - in the past month, we've slept in 10 different places, driven halfway across the country and back, finished our hardwood floors and updated our kitchen and moved into our house, and more. Oh yeah, and it's almost Christmas. But I've been getting the itch to blog again - so consider this my comeback. A life update will be coming soon...
I'm a bit late writing your nine-month letter, because boy, have we been busy.
This past month, you drove with us all the way to North Carolina and back. We stopped in Louisville, Spruce Pine, and Nashville to see friends and family on our way to a debrief with Samaritan's Purse in Asheville. You snuggled with Grandma Gail in a cabin while your dad and I learned how to survive reverse culture shock, along with a dozen other cross-cultural workers. You slept very little but charmed everyone you met. A few days after we got back, we drove three hours to introduce you to my side of the family. As the only baby at Thanksgiving dinner, you were a hit.
After getting back to KC, you also survived your first bout of croup. It is not any fun waking up to hear you barking like seal in the middle of the night. But I'm thankful you pulled through it after a few nights.
And finally, we moved into our house - two days before your dad and I both started new jobs. Friends and family have stepped in to watch you while we've been putting in 40-hour work weeks. Hopefully in a month or two, I'll be able to cut back to fewer hours after I get through training. And I'm looking forward to that - I have really missed you!
You are on the verge of getting up and going on your own. You grab our hands, pull yourself up, and take off walking, gripping our hands as you unsteadily totter away. You aren't actually crawling, but you have this hilarious scooting method, where you pull on the floor and scoot your bottom towards whatever you want. You're incredibly verbal, and you wave your hands in greeting and farewell. Anything with buttons or shiny metal fascinates you, and you're already adept at turning the pages in books.
I'm really thankful you've survived the past few months of upheaval. You've been through a lot in your life, but you seem to just take it all in stride, with a smile. You're a pretty amazing little boy already.
I love you, sweet one.
For more Letters to Declan, click here.