Emma turned 9 months old today. 9 months. I don’t even know what to say.

Ok, well let me get an update in here before she turns 37.

She saw Dr. Ben this morning and weighed in at 18 lbs. 3.2 oz. and 27 1/4 inches. He said we should start giving her “table food”. (I didn’t want to sound too much like a wise ass so I didn’t ask what that meant exactly. Isn’t anything that can go on the table “table” food? But I digress.) I shared with the good doctor that I was pretty sure that it would be much safer to wait until she was say, 12 or 13 before introducing foods she might choke on, but he was not to be reasoned with.

So I guess we are going to start giving her finger food she can pick up and eat herself (and get lodged in her TINY LITTLE throat). Thanks doc.

9 months.

She is crawling as fast as Moose can walk. In fact, I often find them drag racing down the hallway. Emma usually wins, but I am pretty sure that is because Moose is throwing the race. While she loves to crawl and explore, there is nothing she loves more than standing and walking. She still needs to hold onto something when she walks, but she can stand for a good 10 seconds by herself before she delicately plops down on her derrière. We find her standing in her crib after every nap and beaming with joy when we open the door.

She has started saying “mamamamamma” and “dadadadada” (in that order), and we know she knows what she is saying, despite what the books say. We are less sure what “aaaaannnnnnnnaaaahhhlllld” means, but we’ll get it eventually. She just started waving at us recently, both hello and goodbye, although it’s not a trick she will do on command, so don’t bother asking her.

Every day with Emma is a joy. She is the light of our life. I can’t wait to see what the next 274 days will bring.