Friday, March 14, 2014

11 months

Your last week that we will count in months.  You are almost an ENTIRE year old.  You’ve come along way, baby.  What felt like an eternity with the billi boards(sp) (aka your tanning bed) and that whole extra day in the hospital, the three week non stop eating, the helmet, the tubes, the spit up—and we couldn’t love you more.  You feel like we just got you and like we’ve had you forever.  You are a prefect fit.

At 11 months you are a little mess who still only has four teeth.  You LOVE to wave.  Waving is your favorite.  Other than saying “dog.”  That’s your other favorite.  Or clapping.  You are quite the clapper.  Yesterday we sang if you’re happy and you know it (favorite song—sensing a theme here?) you were standing up and holding on to a door.  You could not figure out how to clap your hands so you hit yourself in the face before you sat down on the ground and got to clapping and smiling.  You recently give big mouthed kisses.  You love to take a bath.  You love to crawl away from me quickly.  It makes you laugh.  You are a mess.  You get in. to. Everything.  You want to open all cabinets and take out all contents.  When you get mad you squeal and cry.  You want everything your brother has.  You have almost zero interest in baby toys.  I don’t even know why we have them.  You still wake up in the night and want to nurse.  Speaking of nursing… you show zero interest in stopping.  You also hate milk.  You drink it and immediately spit it out.  I feel ya, dude.  You do this shy/turn away/semi teasing thing and you draw up your arm around your belly.  I call it the Bill Cosby.  You are adorable.  I think you may love your brother most of all.  You are on the move.  Slow it down, brotha.

I keep thinking you will begin to speak in sentences instead of “uh uh uh” used for everything.  Maybe you say “that” or “this”.  You also have said “nana.”  I know you can.  When we ask you questions you shake your head yes.  It’s precious.

I cannot believe that you were born ONE year ago (tomorrow.)  We love you little one.

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