Seven Months

Well. Little Mister.  His sixth month of life was so crazy that He got almost to eight before I knew what had happened.
When He turned seven months old, we had just arrived in a new home and were bravely conquering hordes of boxes.  We had just wrapped up two months on the road, and we were all in a whirl of sorting and settling, exploring and adjusting.
Except Him.
He had His own world of stuff going on.
At seven months, Mister had acquired the cutting edge of His first tooth.  He was not super thrilled with this.  He had come to the conclusion that there was a world beyond Him, full of wonderful things to gnaw on and shake, but it was always (always man!) just barely beyond reach.
He was coming around to the general conclusion that there might be a way for Him to move in such a way as to get at this big wonderful world, but the means were still elusive.
On His tummy He would stare with incredible focus at some object of ardent desire, and reach- rreeeeaaaaacccchhhhh- for it....wiggle the fingers and ssstttreeeettttccchhhh them as far as they could go (about 3/4 inch).  But no.
So He'd swoop His arms forward and back, kick furiously, and call to it.  We're not sure; He was either attempting to swim or to fly to it.  But again, no.
Finally, after long days of intense effort, He got His chubby little motor going so hard, that He started moving! Inching, slowly, along the floor!.... Backwards.
This was the first time I've ever seen His patient nature fail Him.  He would put such a heroic, all-out effort into getting to something just inches away, only to watch it slowly get further and further from Him, the harder He tried to reach it.  Finally He'd just screw up His face and give it a scream, then flop His face on the floor and lay there flat.  Giving up. A moment later mewing, "mamamamamamama" until rescued.
Never to give up completely, Mister would always rally to try, try again.  Finally, He perfected the art of forward locomotion in a style which, after caring for dozens of babies I have actually, truly, never witnessed before.
He would get up on His hands and knees (woo hoo!) and start rocking.  As He rocked, the Coveted Object would get closer, further away, closer, further away.  After awhile, He'd realize He was stuck in a vicious cycle and would just give it one huge, Hail Mary, 100% effort and lunge His whole body forward!  Landing squarely, flat on His face.  After a second of still recovery, prone, He'd peep up and check.  His eyes would light up- YES! VICTORY! Coveted Object was closer! So He'd get His arms back under Him, pull His legs back in, zero in on the target, start to rocking....and start the whole thing over again.  Until, two inches at a time, He would *face-plant* across the floor and reach His prize.  He was darn proud of Himself when He got it, too.
At seven months He also mastered jumping in His jumper, holding things out to show off, throwing stuff (all the stuff), waving "hi", and banging on things with every degree of enthusiasm imaginable.
Seven-month-old Mister didn't really care about all the moving in, He was just happy when finally He got a quiet room and a crib to sleep in at night, and room to stretch out and face-crawl during the day.
He continued to love snuggles, though His desire to see the world made Him quite wiggly to hang onto as He was toted around.
He still loved baths/swimming, silly antics by His Sisters, and being talked to more than anything, and still disliked practically nothing.  Mister at seven months was an easygoing, independent, but super sociable and friendly, guy who was (not that I'm biased) completely delightful to be around.
The best description I could give would be that of a great big, beaming, toothless smile, surrounded by cheerfulness, extending into playful curiosity, and really cute toes.
Plus, He truly was calling me Mama, and calling out for me when He wanted me.  Despite the fact that He mostly wanted me to be His minion and fetch Him things, the magic combination of sunshine and "mama" made me only too happy to minion whenever He wished.
Seven Has always been Mister's special number.  And this month was a sort of a crossroads for Him.  As Mister turned seven months old, He was beginning to leave infancy behind Him.  Rather than merely being the center of the world, He was heading out into the vast uncharted territory of becoming an interactive part of an infinitely larger world around Him.
It is clear that my days of containing all of His squishy cuteness and all of His attention inside the circle of my arms are waning, and already He's off on the long and inevitable road children travel- away from their parents.  Still, as much as I miss the tiny bundle of baby to snuggle, I can already tell that being a spectator, cheerleader, and guide along His way is going to be a whole lot of work.
Oh, yeah, and fun.
Happy seven months, Little Mister.