i haven't updated in nearly a month, mostly because i've been an ineffective sadboy about packing, moving, and unpacking. we closed on our new home mid-march and finally left the little house on voss hills after two whirlwind years—the best ride of my life thus far. i applied for that rental as a cynical, self-absorbed single girl, and i walked out for the very last time as an equally cynical, self-absorbed wife and mother. and of course, true to form, i've been mourning this transition, the bittersweet pangs of leaving the first place i've really made into a home, cataloging the memories tied into every single space. the living room, where we decorated our christmas tree to a bing crosby-heavy playlist. the dining room, where ian knelt down and asked if he could spend the rest of his life making me happy. the kitchen, where we gingerly brought home our tiny bleary-eyed son from the hospital. the nursery, where we spent so many of our days watching james lounge, flail, roll, and finally begin to crawl. the master closet, where i stood alone at night during the darkest depths of my postpartum sorrow and sobbed to u2's "without or with u" on repeat (why???).

it feels like the most transitional chapter of my life has finally closed, but this is a deceptive narrative heuristic. after all, we are still the same squad in approximately the same city, living pretty much the exact same life—but in a much bigger space.

and it couldn't have come at a better time. mr. james is truly a big kid now, and the glimpses of who he'll become as a full-grown dude keep coming into view, faster and faster with each passing week. he can now pull himself up into a standing position, which is a feat he attempts often on nearly anything he can reach. he is also finally crawling, after two months of refining a strange and desperate belly flopping momentum. it is a miracle to watch him, at long last, manage to coordinate all four chubby little limbs into forward movement. my wonderment lasts all of 45 seconds, until i watch him crawl directly to the first available electrical cord and stuff it happily into his mouth.

everything goes into his mouth now: phones, cables, laptop screens, doorstops, shoes, all the food, and everyone's body parts. it is less adorable now when he crawls over to me and gnaws on my knee, because my dude has two fully grown bottom teeth and wastes no time in testing them. genuinely a pleasure to witness when he's munching on an apple or cramming fistfuls of risotto into his face. not so much when he rediscovers my breasts and tries to chomp on them for old times' sake.

it is the beautiful miracle of biology that i survive this encounter without reflexively flinging him across the room.

i don't mean for this entire entry to make him sound like a blossoming monster, all rapid movement and sharp teeth. he's also definitely cognitively and socially a more interesting real guy than ever before. yes this is what development is, you dumb ass. ain't nobody thought your 8 month old baby would still be as helpless and pointless as his first day out, you might say. and yes, you are right—but the inevitability still can't dilute the raw excitement that soars in my chest when james makes meaningful eye contact and babbles hopefully. he knows me. he wants to play with me. he repeats actions that make me laugh. he is almost as smart as jean-luc and definitely smarter than momo.

he still sleeps like a champion and his nursery is so far away now, on the second floor. but we are long past the middle-of-the-night wakeups, and james snoozes from his usual 7pm to 7 am with astonishing consistency. it is still our greatest collective triumph and probably my favorite discovery during this new parenthood adventure. sometimes, you get lucky. a baby rip van winkle, and a dreamboat husband who lets you sleep in until noon on the weekends.

don't get too jealous, though. a few days ago james pooped in my new resplendent bathtub and the moment i felt the sliminess flow into my hands was probably the worst full minute of my entire life.