So far, the most obvious advances you’ve had in development started happening in the last month. You are mostly successful at getting your Nuk back in your mouth. You correctly point out the answer to “Where’s mommy’s nose?” when you’re in the mood. You roll and roll and roll around the living room to get to wherever you want to be. You are funny, happy and wonderful.
This last month has also welcomed us to the world of teething. Anything that is within arms reach of your little drool covered hands, you want it in your mouth.You did not want to sit next to your alien this month, you wanted to EAT HIM.
I’ve come into the room to find you just sucking on this stuffed fish that’s attached to your exersaucer, mouth only, no hands.
You’ve also gotten a sudden interest in things like the remote control, or my cell phone, or whatever else we’d prefer you not to have. You’re turning into a Grabby McStealerpants. You will take the object and pass it from one hand to the other, and then put it in your mouth. I’m fairly certain cellphones give babies cancer, so I keep my iPhone far away from your reach. But I see you eyeing it son, I see you.
So you drool and drool, and drool. At times your cheeks get all bright red from the slobber if we aren’t constantly drying off your face, which you HATE.
You also HATE me messing with your nose. If I come at you with the nasal aspirator (bogger sucker-outer) you begin to contort like a pretzel person in the freakshow at a circus, bending almost completely backwards in attempts to avoid it’s suckiness.
But you have a cold. It’s a nasty cold, because we all have it. You are teething, you have a cold, AND the doctor though, “Meh, while you’re here, we might as well give him his shots…” So you’ve been more than miserable for about a week now. I keep hoping you will feel better and you teeter back and forth between being giggly and smiley to being angry and sick baby. I wish I could make you feel better, but according to every doctor in the universe you are too young for cold medicine and/or this is just a virus. Still, you’ve had LONG coughing fits that exhaust ME from trying to calm you down, and from watching you turn all red trying to hack it all up.
Last night I went out for dinner and drinks with some girlfriends and your dad watched you in the evening and put you to bed. When I came home and asked how you were, he said, “You’re not allowed to go out when the baby is sick ever again.” “Why? What happened?” I asked. His reply, “He almost died.”
Now, your dad was joking (mostly) when he told me this however you truly scared the shit out of him. You had a coughing fit that lasted for a half hour, and caused you to throw up all over yourself, and then almost choke on that, and then have to take another bath, all the while still coughing. Dad said you finally passed out from exhaustion wrapped in your bath towel.
This morning you seemed relatively happy until you started coughing again. Now when you start coughing you glare at me and your dad as if to say, “DO SOMETHING?!” or “WHY IS THIS HAPPENING, IT’S PROBABLY YOUR FAULT!” and it makes me feel pretty bad. Then you’ll arch backwards and throw your head back into one of your fits. Sigh. It can only get better I think.
You love to watch us clap. And your dad taught you how to clap on his hands. You love the song the Itsy Bitsy Spider and you seem to like most songs I sing…given you’re in the right mood. You’re still eating like a champ and at this rate I have no idea how much longer I can keep up making all of your food. You eat a LOT. And you get angry if we’re not shoveling it into your pie-hole fast enough. I swear I need more hands.
Speaking of which, we switched out your car seat so now you have to wear a jacket outside and into the car.
You don’t appear to really care about the switch, though the other day I heard this weird sound coming from the backseat and I realized later that you were scratching at the upholstery with your fingernails…like a cat. You do that a lot now, scratching things with your fingernails. Weird.
I have a feeling it will still be a while before you’re crawling. You haven’t figured out that you have knees and can get up on them. Mainly you just use your gigantic head as leverage to roll one way or the other. We hear loud THUDs and it’s usually you plowing your dome into the ground as you roll around. That, or you kicking your heels into the floor as you lay on your back.
Every so often you’ll still stop what you’re doing and stare at your hand with wonder. You still always smile at me and your dad. And I’m pretty sure you just started “kissing” me with your drooly slobbery face, digging it into my neck and chest, chin or cheeks- whatever’s closest. You’re just too cute little boy. My favorite around-the-house winter fleece is covered in boogers from your face.
We’re still working on baby sign language but I’m pretty sure you think we’re crazy when we’re doing them to you. We’re trying to teach you eat, milk, all done, and more. You just look at us like, “Um what the….” Maybe it will catch on eventually. You point at your bottle, my hands, nose, mouth and eyes. You seem to be asking, “What’s this again?”
When your dad took you to the doctor you were nearly 22 pounds (21 pounds and 12 oz) and in the 91st percentile for weight. I think you’re stretching out though…you look so big to me and are wearing 12 month old clothes now. TWELVE MONTHS?! Slow down kiddo.
Though the time is sweeping by in big waves of milestones, I go back and forth between wanting to see you when you’re a little bigger, wondering what you’ll be “into” and if you’ll like to help me cook or if you’ll like trucks and bugs or dinosaurs and magic tricks…If you’ll want to hold my hand or if you’ll want to run full sprint in the opposite direction…if you’ll get more snuggly as you get bigger, or if you’ll stay just as you are- mostly only a LITTLE snuggly when you feel tired or sick.
As always, no matter what you end up being, or what you end up liking, it’s okay. I love you. I’m just excited to see it all happen and get to know you more.
And as I daydream about who you’ll be in a year, I catch myself and think, “Don’t wish his babydays away…” because I want you to be a baby and a kid for as long as you want to be, and I don’t want to rush you to grow up.
I love you so much. WE love you so much. You are our joy, as always and I’m so glad you’re mine. Til next month Stink Butt. Please get over this awful cold so we can all go outside and play…the snow is melting FINALLY.