11 Months
Caches Michael,
Today you are 11 months old and honestly, I kind of want to cry about it. What? You cry all the time! I just can't believe how the time has flown. Lately I've been watching you, walking from room to room, playing, singing to yourself as you wander, and I have to stop and wonder, who is this toddler? Where is my baby!? I'm not ready! Slow down!
I know, I know, I'm being a bit redundant with all the, "where has my baby gone?" business, but it just happened so fast. It's as if you were perfecting all of these big boy skills in your sleep, just waiting for the right moment to put them all to use and transform. No wonder you are up all the damn time!
That, and the two giant top teeth which have decided to join the party this month. Those rat bastard teeth have caused oh SO much drama and oh SO much drool! Were they not so important in your ability to chew I would have pulled them out and buried them in the yard long ago. Anything to stop the whining and drooool! They are pretty cute though, poking through your little baby gums with absolutely no direction or style. Sometimes you flash a smile so wide that they peek out and say hello. I melt.
This month, along with the teeth and walking, you have finally decided to crawl. I honestly wasn't sure you ever would, but we had a play date with a baby who crawled up and down stairs and apparently you were jealous enough to figure it out. You sat perfectly still, that NEVER happens, and carefully studied him. The next day you crawled. And I'm pretty sure you were pissed off when you discovered that we don't have stairs. You still prefer to walk, but every once and a while crawling will do.
Caches, you still sleep like a tortured abstract artist who has taken one too many hits of blow. I'll explain what that means later. You wake a minimum of eight times a night and INSIST on sleeping not just next to me, but ON TOP of me. And why would I expect anything less, you don't do things halfheartedly, it's all or nothing. And just in case you are wondering how uncomfortable it is to "sleep" all night with a +/- 20 pound, wriggling, thrashing, whining, nursing, eye poking, squishing my bladder baby on top of you, I'm sure Abner would love to curl up on top of YOU for the night.
Oh Abner, your "Buh," your friend. I knew the two of you would hit it off and sure enough you are in love. Each morning you crack open your eyes, smile widely up at me and put your downy blonde head on my chest in an attempt to absolve yourself of the sleep torture you have inflicted on me for the past ten hours. It totally works! Awe, so sweet, moment over and you begin to look for your Buh.
Usually he has already snuck into bed knowing that I won't kick him out and risk waking you up so you don't have to look far. Your eyes light up and you offer him a paci, my phone, your fingers, a paci again...and again. Why don't you want this paci, doggie!? Maybe Lilly wants it. Nope. Mama? Dad? Okay, I'll take it. And you crawl around the bed and squeal and chat with the pillow, the picture on the wall, and occasionally the kitty. Once you have made the rounds it's time to start the day.
The instant your little toes hit the floor YOU. ARE. NON. STOP. A typical morning looks a little something like this. Touch rocks, touch water, touch mama's coffee, touch tree, touch toy, touch curtains, touch dogs water bowl. Feed me. Pick me up, put me down. Touch chair, touch wall, touch toilet, touch kitty, touch TV screen. Try to run out the back door. Touch hamper, touch dresser, touch bed, touch washing machine. Try to run out the front door. Feed me, pick me up, touch mama's coffee, put me down, HOLD ME!! PUT ME DOWN!!!
I wonder if this ball wants to take a swim in the toilet. Perhaps this toy wants to live in the washing machine. Feed me, hold me, feed me some more, pick me up, touch mama's coffee, put me down, touch TV, that gets a rise out of her. Feed me again, hold me, put me down, touch plant, touch dog bone, touch dog bowl, touch mama, PICK ME UP!
By 7:30am I am ready for a nap but you, you my child who needs no rest, are ready to party. We go outside, inside, take a walk. Play chase, hide and seek and have a talk. I try to sit and read a book but your body is so busy that you can't even look. Eventually I catch you in a yawn or notice that you aren't quite as feisty and we spend the next 20-30 minutes playing the, "I don't need a nap, mama." game where I insist that you do and you insist that you don't. Sometimes you win, but you don't play fair!
Caches, this month has been our best yet. We still have our struggles, I'm sure we always will, but the good times FAR out weight the bad. And while I want to stop the clock, turn it back even, I am so excited for what the future holds. Adventures upon adventures! I just know we will have so much fun touching paint, crayons and glue; rocks, dirt and sand. So please, stay a baby as long as you'd like, sweet boy. You have your whole life to be a big boy.
Love,
Mama
Today you are 11 months old and honestly, I kind of want to cry about it. What? You cry all the time! I just can't believe how the time has flown. Lately I've been watching you, walking from room to room, playing, singing to yourself as you wander, and I have to stop and wonder, who is this toddler? Where is my baby!? I'm not ready! Slow down!
I know, I know, I'm being a bit redundant with all the, "where has my baby gone?" business, but it just happened so fast. It's as if you were perfecting all of these big boy skills in your sleep, just waiting for the right moment to put them all to use and transform. No wonder you are up all the damn time!
That, and the two giant top teeth which have decided to join the party this month. Those rat bastard teeth have caused oh SO much drama and oh SO much drool! Were they not so important in your ability to chew I would have pulled them out and buried them in the yard long ago. Anything to stop the whining and drooool! They are pretty cute though, poking through your little baby gums with absolutely no direction or style. Sometimes you flash a smile so wide that they peek out and say hello. I melt.
This month, along with the teeth and walking, you have finally decided to crawl. I honestly wasn't sure you ever would, but we had a play date with a baby who crawled up and down stairs and apparently you were jealous enough to figure it out. You sat perfectly still, that NEVER happens, and carefully studied him. The next day you crawled. And I'm pretty sure you were pissed off when you discovered that we don't have stairs. You still prefer to walk, but every once and a while crawling will do.
Caches, you still sleep like a tortured abstract artist who has taken one too many hits of blow. I'll explain what that means later. You wake a minimum of eight times a night and INSIST on sleeping not just next to me, but ON TOP of me. And why would I expect anything less, you don't do things halfheartedly, it's all or nothing. And just in case you are wondering how uncomfortable it is to "sleep" all night with a +/- 20 pound, wriggling, thrashing, whining, nursing, eye poking, squishing my bladder baby on top of you, I'm sure Abner would love to curl up on top of YOU for the night.
Oh Abner, your "Buh," your friend. I knew the two of you would hit it off and sure enough you are in love. Each morning you crack open your eyes, smile widely up at me and put your downy blonde head on my chest in an attempt to absolve yourself of the sleep torture you have inflicted on me for the past ten hours. It totally works! Awe, so sweet, moment over and you begin to look for your Buh.
Usually he has already snuck into bed knowing that I won't kick him out and risk waking you up so you don't have to look far. Your eyes light up and you offer him a paci, my phone, your fingers, a paci again...and again. Why don't you want this paci, doggie!? Maybe Lilly wants it. Nope. Mama? Dad? Okay, I'll take it. And you crawl around the bed and squeal and chat with the pillow, the picture on the wall, and occasionally the kitty. Once you have made the rounds it's time to start the day.
The instant your little toes hit the floor YOU. ARE. NON. STOP. A typical morning looks a little something like this. Touch rocks, touch water, touch mama's coffee, touch tree, touch toy, touch curtains, touch dogs water bowl. Feed me. Pick me up, put me down. Touch chair, touch wall, touch toilet, touch kitty, touch TV screen. Try to run out the back door. Touch hamper, touch dresser, touch bed, touch washing machine. Try to run out the front door. Feed me, pick me up, touch mama's coffee, put me down, HOLD ME!! PUT ME DOWN!!!
I wonder if this ball wants to take a swim in the toilet. Perhaps this toy wants to live in the washing machine. Feed me, hold me, feed me some more, pick me up, touch mama's coffee, put me down, touch TV, that gets a rise out of her. Feed me again, hold me, put me down, touch plant, touch dog bone, touch dog bowl, touch mama, PICK ME UP!
By 7:30am I am ready for a nap but you, you my child who needs no rest, are ready to party. We go outside, inside, take a walk. Play chase, hide and seek and have a talk. I try to sit and read a book but your body is so busy that you can't even look. Eventually I catch you in a yawn or notice that you aren't quite as feisty and we spend the next 20-30 minutes playing the, "I don't need a nap, mama." game where I insist that you do and you insist that you don't. Sometimes you win, but you don't play fair!
Caches, this month has been our best yet. We still have our struggles, I'm sure we always will, but the good times FAR out weight the bad. And while I want to stop the clock, turn it back even, I am so excited for what the future holds. Adventures upon adventures! I just know we will have so much fun touching paint, crayons and glue; rocks, dirt and sand. So please, stay a baby as long as you'd like, sweet boy. You have your whole life to be a big boy.
Love,
Mama
why. baby tears, every time. so sweet!
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