9 Months

Ari turned 9 months old this past week. Unbelievable that he's a mere three months away from his first birthday. He had his check-up and shots last Wednesday. He weighs 22 pounds and is 29 inches long. His growth is definitely slowing down. He's still in the 75th percentile, but he used to be off the charts! Compare that with Owen's 9-month stats - he weighed 22 pounds, 10 ounces and was 28.5 inches long. Very similar in size. And yet so completely opposite in every other way!

What amazed me about this doctor's appointment is how, without really knowing my son, they predicted every single thing he is doing. Waving and saying bye-bye, saying Dada, crawling on hands and knees, pulling to standing, taking 20 ounces of milk each day, and so forth. It's amazing how babies everywhere are doing the same thing at the same age. It's genetic programming at its best. Ari is right on track for his age, except for his verbal ability, which is advanced. Having three words (which I'm almost ready to declare four, since he is now saying ba when he holds a ball) advances him over most babies his age, who have one. Leave it to my children to talk a lot.

I'm scheduling Owen's surgery today for July 14th. I'm very nervous about this procedure, and about the overnight stay in the hospital. I haven't approached the subject with him yet. I figure I might as well wait a little while so he's not freaked out two months in advance. I'm not sure what to tell him. I can't lie to him and say it won't hurt, but I don't want to scare him. Being two must suck, to never know what's coming, what's going to happen next, where you're going when you're in the car, how to get to the food when you're hungry. Every day is a big surprise.

Keith is on the hunt for a vehicle for us. We need a van, since we'll have three carseats in it. I am terrified that he is going to (somehow) manage to find a van that is even worse than the car that just died. Leave it to Keith. If there is an older, uglier, cheaper van out there than our 1991 Pontiac with peeling paint that just shuddered its final oil-burning exhaust into the ground, my husband will find it. And make me drive it.

We had a nice Memorial Day weekend. We grilled out twice. We spent most of our time outside, because the weather was just perfect. Yesterday we took the boys downtown to a park where they were holding a free Blues festival. We fed ducks, played on the swings and slides, explored an old 1942 locomotive and a fighter plane, and ran around in the grass until Owen was very, very tired. Ari contentedly watched from his stroller. And contented is not a word I'd use to describe Ari lately. He has been such a crank. His top two teeth are breaking through, and it's disrupting everything. I feel bad for him, but I also get frustrated when he cries all day long. Poor little guy. I was glad he was happy at the park.

Saturday Owen and I were playing blocks and he said he was building a boat. He said, "I going to Arkansas to get Nanny and then we're going to ride my boat to Tennessee!" He also mentioned that Poppy lived in Tennessee, but Meme and Kyle lived in Texas, and when he gets old, he is going to Rya-noy, which I believe is his interpretation of Illinois, where his sitter is from. I don't know when he learned all of these states, but it's pretty cute to hear him talking about everyone. I think he is really going to be excited to move close to Nanny and Papa and Papa's garden, which has taken on a life of its own as far as Owen is concerned!