I'm over it. I was actually over it about 10 minutes after the game ended because I'd already known for at least 20 minutes that it wasn't going to end in our favor. I kept cheering for the Jayhawks, of course, but I had a little trouble really getting fired up because my gut already knew it was over. Funny how I can go from being so jealous of those who live in Lawrence getting to feel all the excitement, living in that electricty that precedes a big game to being oh-so-deliriously-thankful that I live halfway around the world where people don't even notice. Because no one here is moping about the loss to UCLA and it's lovely to see that life goes on very quickly. Besides, as my wise mom pointed out, by mid-April no one remembers who won unless it was their team.
Let's talk about something fun. How about Wyatt? Okay, great! Well he's now 9 months old which begs the question: how am I the mother of a 9-month-old? Wasn't I just pregnant like a month ago? Hmmm, very curious how time can fast forward to warp speed when you're not looking. And at nine months, Wyatt weighs just shy of 17 pounds. For the love of all that's good in the world, could my child please break free of the "under 5th percentile" category?! I swear we're feeding him as much as he'll eat; choosing high calorie foods (jarred carrots are banned from this house - I discovered a WHOLE JAR only has 25 calories. Useless!) and adding an extra scoop of formula to every bottle. But still we have Mr. Smallguy. It doesn't seem to bother him in the least as he continues to tackle new skills all the time.
Wyatt at nine months has discovered the joy of his walker outside on the sidewalk and loves to go sprinting down the front walk. He pretty much sucks at steering though, so when he comes to a sudden stop and lurches forward in his seat, I say "bam!" and it makes him laugh. Big dogs also make him laugh. We kept Sandy this weekend and often just the sight of her brought on the giggles. He also thinks it's funny to grind his teeth (all six of them!) but that's not actually funny so we don't acknowledge that one, which is more than a little challenging since he might as well be dragging fingernails down a chalkboard. The sound of grinding baby teeth is horrific.
He crawls all over the house, clearly understands the word "no" but often chooses to pretend otherwise, pulls up on everything, cruises just a bit from table to couch, pets Millie even though she usually runs away from him and loves feeling the wind on his face. He looks up if we say the word "airplane" whether we're inside or out, and claps when I tell him to wave. This week he managed to sneak a handfull of Millie's kibble during the seven seconds I had my back turned and the water on (couldn't hear the tell-tale clink of the food against the bowl) but stopped before eating it because he was waiting for me to tell him not to.
He loves his refrigerator magnets, always choosing the big green one and the smallest blue one first as he's pulling them down. He knows how to crawl while carrying something in his hand, thinks his stacking cups are fun, protests unpopular decisions by saying "nnnnnnnnnnnnnnuh" and then laughs when I imitate him ("nnnnnuh! who am I? That's right, I'm Wyatt!" makes him stop every time). He rarely wakes without a smile on his face and is all of a sudden afraid of the vacuum. He still loves his little leapfrog that sings the alphabet, thinks Daddy's mustache is funny and will rub noses with me anytime I ask. He's a very vigorous nose-rubbing-partner, too! The kid's whole body goes side to side. He's just so fun and funny and cute (he shrugged his shoulders the other day when Heather called him cute as if to say, "well, I just can't help it"). I think we got a good one. We're going to keep him.