11 months old

Dear Simon,

Oh Simon. Dude. You are 11 months old. You have the beginnings of teeth FINALLY! The front two bottom ones are coming in in a little V shape and there are already visions of orthodontic bills in our heads (even though they’re just baby teeth and we don’t need to worry yet). We are just so happy you have teeth in your head since it’s taken so long for them to pop through. Along with the teeth comes…the whining. OH THE WHINING> I need to get it on video, because you save the best whining for me, mom. It’s a kind of EHHHHHHHHGH sound that you grunt at me constantly. I leave the room or go around the corner to get something and it’s “EEEEEEEEHHHHHGH” You are happiest on my hip, leaning towards whatever I’m doing and trying to get into the middle of trouble. It’s hilarious, endearing, and frustrating all at once…which is what childrearing is, I’m told.

You have the most precise pincer grasp. You pick up everything with a surgeon’s precision in your pointer finger, and you’ll find the tiniest thing on the ground and likely put it in your mouth. We had a choking scare a few weeks ago- I was getting you ready for bed and you found a piece of vinyl you’d ripped off of your changing table while furiously attempting to turn over with poop still in your crack AGAIN. You put the vinyl piece in your mouth and immediately started gagging. I freaked. The fear literally sucked my own breath out of my chest as I went crazy trying to pull it out of the back of your throat. Jesus kid, stop doing that.  After I got the piece out successfully, you cuddled with me, which is about the only time you will- you snuggled with me when I saved your life pick you up after you tumble down or bonk your head or whatever you do these days.

You are FAST. You are a crawler-cruiser and the shelves in our house are not high enough anymore. We are anxious to see how much you’ve grown because the creases in your thighs are shortening and you just look so tall when you’re standing up. You’re not interested in walking on your own, or holding our hands to walk. You will cruise at your own pace, holding onto furniture and carefully gauging how much leaning you have to do to get between the coffee table and the couch. I’m glad we bought the corner pieces of foam for the coffee table. Otherwise I’m certain you would’ve lost an eyeball by now.

You now say Bah Bah, Ma ma, and Ga ga, which I think is your version of Da Da, since you sometimes say it inquisitively when he’s not around like, “Ga ga?” or “where did that funny guy go?”

We walked in the Fourth of July parade for the library this weekend and you were such a trooper. Smiles and waves to everyone. I was so proud to march with you in the parade. You were so good, so sweet, and cute.

I think that every parent is sure their child is a genius of sorts, but you are definitely smart. You love to read books, and look at the baby pictures on the fridge, or my phone, which you will use every so often to try and look at pictures on your own.  You love to watch cars pass by on the street. You watch left to right, right to left, and then look at me like, “What was that?!” And the other day, we were out in the front yard just hanging out at 8am- and you heard and airplane. You were searching all over to see where that sound was coming from. You are so advanced, dear sweet son of mine. I don’t care what anyone says, you’re the smartest kid I know.

But right now, little bugger, you’re trying my patience with the whining nonstop. And the waking up several times a night. It has been a rough couple of nights and I can only assume it’s your teeth causing the sleep issues. At 3am you’re sitting up in your crib, smiling at me and wanting to get up and play. This is only after whining for twenty minutes so I come to your room to see what the problem is- and you’re like, “What? No problem here- just missed you and wanted to play…”

Because son, you are my best friend. You make it ok to dance for no reason, to make up songs about farm animals, and doing things in the kitchen, and folding laundry. You make a trip to the grocery a bit of an adventure (and sometimes a bit of a pain in the ass) but you’re with me, and you listen to me, and interact with me, and when I get lonely, you’re always there. And I just can’t be lonely around you- because you’re the coolest person I know.

Next month is a big one. Our birthdays! And I always loved my birthday and would eek it out to last an entire month. And now, my birthmonth has become so much more important and exciting. It’s OUR birthdays. WE get to share them! I’ll always want to take off work now because I have a real excuse to…it’s not just MY birthday, it’s OUR birthday. And I’ll be 32. And you’ll be 1. And we are going to party like it’s 1999. (I know that doesn’t make sense to you, but it’s actually a funny pop culture reference to a Prince song.) I’m planning a smallish affair at the park up the street. I’m kind of hoping you’ll be walking by then, but also nervous about all that entails. Regardless, we will be eating cake and singing, and dancing, and celebrating all that you have brought into our lives with your little life. And we’ll be celebrating that you’re still alive and we managed to take pretty good care of you thus far. Success!

I love you so much buttercup.




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