You are eleven months old. You eat cars less and play with them more. You wave. You clap. You say Abu. You love rolling a ball back and forth, it's your favorite activity- next to peek-a-boo- you love peek-a-boo. You play pook-a-boo with stuffed animals, strangers in the check-out lines, and with anyone who might glance your way. If peek-a-boo was an Olympic sport, you'd bring home the gold. I'm not sure how one goes from so tiny they can't lift their head, to in the span of less than a year, rearranging the geography of our lives, but seeing you I bear witness to all a year can bring.
This month is the month of participating. You want to get in on the action too. Like baking. This was the domain of your brother and I. Where before, you contentedly played by yourself or
This was also the month of your very first Halloween! You were my dragon.
No really, you thought Halloween was the best. thing. ever.
We also visited your mamus this month and took a trip to Key West. You got pampered, held, and cuddled to your heart's content.
And you stepped foot in the ocean for the very first time. You splashed your feet while your nana held you. Maybe its because I grew up near the ocean as a child but something about the ocean brings me peace. So it was beautiful to see your joy, imagining if I myself had a moment like this once upon a time.
This is also the month you began standing. To be honest, I didn't completely notice it the first time it happened. It was 6 o'clock in the morning and, foggy from sleep, I cuddled you in bed while you, per usual, bounced, jumped, and attempted to bite me with your toothless self. But this time, in my sleepy haze I thought wow I'm tired he looks like he just stood up. But then later, chai fully coursing through my veins, you did it again. And again. And again. And well, you'll be walking soon. I'm both excited. And terrified.
|you look surprised by your newfound skills too|
|I'm presuming this is a pretend DJ/Emcee thing going on?|
Don't blink, a waiter told us years ago when your brother was a baby, if you do, you'll open your eyes and he'll be three. Back then it seemed impossible, but now I know better. I feel like I'm just now getting my bearings on becoming the mother of two, and we're knocking on year one. But this time of course, its different. I knew the moment the doctor lay you, tiny, helpless and fragile in my arms, how fast this would all go by. And while this doesn't slow anything down, it does help me appreciate it more. Each night I take you upstairs, I feed you, I kiss your soft cheeks, and I lay you in bed. And each night I look at you, really look at you, trying to soak in the moment, trying to remember how you look this very last moment you will ever be quite this small. Don't get me wrong, I look forward to you growing up, I pray to see it all unfold, but this right here? These soft cheeks and toothless grins- oh man, I will miss this too.