9 Months: Noble's Dad (Dear Noble)

Thanks to Judd for this hot snap

It's Father's Day, Baby. I'm so pleased to celebrate and to be sharing my favorite dude with you, that bearded paragon of masculinity - dadliness? -humanity??? - that won't stop smiling at you, your father. You may have heard him called Daddy, Babe, Bill, Billy, Ducky, or Bill Nice; he has many names. I call him Uncle Bill when I think his inner guidance counselor has taken over, and need a way to rebel against being helped. He truly is bubbling over with perspective, beneficent encouragement and appreciation for the most obscure notions, and if I didn't already have a favorite uncle (looking at you, Kerry!) I should hope to have one like him.

A beloved personality across many realms, Magic: The Gathering splashed his name into prominence many years before you were born, and gave him the worldwide fan base he deserves. An unsung philosopher and poet, passionate about social change, conversation and justice, his inquisitive presence has the power to diffuse surges of violence, (though he has been politely asked not to return to the state of Missouri) and more than once I've seen him come through many a traumatic ordeal unscathed. His ideal schedule includes a 4 mile morning walk, where he organizes his thoughts, writes lyrics and sweats through his shirts while rapping and schlepping fruit home from the store. If you happen to be into hip hop even a pinch more than I am, he's going to be thrilled. He's building a collection of songs, (don't forget this one with Berm and Swale,) that will no doubt serve as a timeline for his journey through his 20's, 30's, fatherhood, and beyond. He's a rapper baby, he's going to spit at you. His voice is just a vessel, but the hot fire he's shaping is the key to his innermost feelings. Unlocking his heart shouldn't be a problem though, as he's more than happy to talk at length about anything you want. And more. (And more.)

Before you were born he played in a recreational basketball league, and we attended all of his games. I filmed them for you, so at the first sign of interest we'll put together a highlight reel. Man, if you're into basketball he's gonna be over the moon.
For your first 8 months he was at home with you, having been a casualty of a mass lay off just a little while before you arrived. This means you were together a lot more than you have been lately, making googly eyes, nuzzling and bonding over things that crinkled and buzzed. Nowadays he spends his working hours at home designing games and coming to investigate your laughter at every opportunity.

He is a highly affectionate person, and dazzled me into a surprising tolerance of PDA when I was already well into my 20's. Can you conceive of your 20's? I have high hopes they'll be full and wild, lived to the max. Your dad was a real dynamo in his 20's, when I snagged him.  He's since grown into the breeziest, most effervescent husband I've ever had. An enthusiastic student, he is a great lover of habits and innovation. It is likely our shared love for life hacks that keeps our marriage afloat - that, and my stunning reversal of my ban on movie theater nachos. When it was just the two of us, I often scrimped on the basics to the point of mania - hovering nearby while Bill did the dishes to turn off the faucet between plates seems ludicrous now that I run a bath for you every night. I've barely glimpsed the surface of his skills, aggro micro-managing over-achiever that I am. I forget that people have been successfully managing their lives without me (you being the exception) and it's often a strain to contain myself. I rely on him to help me unpack my thoughts, balance our budget and open cans of pickles. He indulges when he discovers something like power clashing, and has a range of laughter I'll attempt to illustrate thusly: his courtesy laugh (you'll have one of these too) is a subdued, murmured chortle, what you'll hear most often is his easy, choppy chuckle, but when you hear his high pitched, rapid mad-hatter trilling warble you can be sure something ridiculous has happened. Likely in a basketball game.

So there you have it. He's traveling a lot this month so I had to draw on memories to paint this picture, but I think it is a faithful portrait. You're 9 months old, and you have your own opinions about him, but if you think you love him now, well, just wait until you see him dance.

9 Months: Noble "Extra" Mobile

I'm not a single mom. I can't think what a single mom thinks or cry single mom tears, but after a weekend traveling alone with Noble I have seen a grueling vision of my life without another parent. While Bill was in New Orleans for 4 days, I drove to Houston for a birthday party with a trepidatious sheen on my brow, dreading the 3 hour tour with a passenger who historically maxes out at 45 minutes. The drive was as I expected: lots of screaming and show tunes. It wasn't so much call and response - more like a metal/cabaret mashup demo with a Whitney Houston floater. The mix was a mess. For relief we stopped for a walk around my grandparents' house, now an empty and padlocked hundred-year-old husk (for sale!) with a front walkway hand-bricked by my dad. I urged my grumpy baby to take in the seat of her ancestors and appreciate the majesty of its gnarled and towering live oak while I tried out my pStyle (A REVELATION!) and unwittingly allowed chiggers into my pants.

Despite the blubbering and traffic and skin scoring, we had a really nice weekend. Noble got to splash and crawl around with her contemporaries while her mom looked on, exchanging a knowing smile with her old amigos.
My oldest and most pregnant of pals took me out to dinner, where we traded parenting parables and dusted off our 5th grade vibe. After one drink I was so loaded I was eating spicy food and preaching the timeless wisdom of Spiritual Midwifery. At the playground the next morning, Noble discovered tunnels, the euphoric oscillation of swinging and the idyllic teething relief of engineered wood fiber.

Thanks to Laura and Travis for hosting us for the weekend, for the night out and for arranging a mini Babypalooza in their living room. Congratulations on 2 years of keeping your little blondie alive and thriving!

Back at home it's so satisfying to be together again, and as if she was waiting for it, Bill and I watched as Noble stood unsupported for a hot second while considering a basket of toys. I keep forgetting she's going to be so different day to day, and that socializing yields such major inspiration. We've since attended a baby play group, storytime at the library, the local playground and IKEA to keep her social skills sharp. A swing and a tunnel have moved onto the property, and the ridiculous giggling that came with them makes me understand the appeal of loading up on toys. What's so great about leaving the house anyway?

At 27.5" and 15.5 lbs, Noble has a lust for life best glimpsed during her feral self-feeding frenzies, nightly immunity to sleep and evasive diaper changes. She's been pulling up since 7.5 months, so I took a chance the other day and set up her push walker (Thanks Wilsons!) which she conquered immediately and has been more daring than ever for it. She crawls to the edge of everything ready to dive, so we're teaching her to back into her dismounts. Taking her into the doctor for her 9 month check up I felt the need to explain all the bruises on her face, but decided against it. I don't explain all of my bruises. ...all of hers are from the kitchen table legs, all of mine are from her... I'm determined not to apologize, hover, protect her too well from germs or clean her too thoroughly after meals. I'm enduring unspeakable smells, brain-scrambling noise, making food around the clock, sleeping 6 hours a night and dimly wondering why my reflection looks so surprised. The disarray I've become accustomed to has me ignoring many housekeeping infractions, forgetting to care about exercise and I can't remember the last time I went this long without an oil change. I am wholly fatigued and desperate for control, but this is our time to be wild. I'm trying not to miss it.