The Five-Toothed Octobaby.

Oie! Oie!

How I morn for the days of Noey past when he was not yet mobile, not yet teething and much, much less active.

I have not done a lot of things lately--fold laundry, call my sister and dear friend in Virginia, pet the cats, push back my cuticles, read and comment on my fellow favorite bloggers blogs. Why? Because gone are the days of infant sensory slumber and here are the days of the finger feasts of burgeoning toddlerhood.

The eighth month for Noah has seen many exciting new developments. Teeth numbers 4 and 5 are making their way through the soft puffy pink of the middle top gum . . . and not far behind are the gleaming pearly white of the two "i teeth" right next door (teeth 6 and 7!), for example. But, among those that are keeping my head spinning are his new ability to crawl and his insatiable curiosity.

Move over "Octomom"--meet OctoNoey. On most days it feels more like I birthed an octopus rather than a baby. The speed and ferocity of his arms and little clammy hands reaching and grasping for anything and everything within eye shot is simply exhausting. And, every morning that he wakes his crawl has gained speed and purpose somehow over night.

He slides without stumble across the living room floor over to the coffee table to teethe on the mini record coasters that I got Dean for a birthday years ago . . . and he glides into the kitchen without pause to heave the small colorful ceramic flowerpots on the bottom shelf of the island containing our garlic and shallots across the floor.

. . . and, he's not even walking yet.

Oie! Oie!

But, he's so, so, so darn much fun. And really quite ravishingly handsome too.