Month Ten

T-Boogedy-Boo, you are 10 months old today!

Whoo-hoo. At your last check up, you were a rinky-dink 27.5 inches tall and barley 18lbs. I swear though that in the last week you've gained like a pound already. You're a camp in the high chair, scarfing down anything we give you and always ready to try something new. I still bust-up laughing every time I see your grimace when you try a new food, whether it's the texture or flavor you aren't sure about, you scrunch up your face, pout out your bottom lip, and slowly, thoughtfully chew your way through the mouthful. If you really don't like it, like mashed peas or unsweetened applesauce, you just flat out refuse to open your mouth anymore, turn your head away as if to say, "If I don't see you, you don't exist."

The months blur together so much I don't remember exactly when you started crawling, but Gilr, you are quick! I turn around for a second, and by the time I look back at you, you're at the other side of the house chasing Tygir, or in the bathroom pulling all the toilet paper off the roll. Speaking of toilet paper, the biggest struggle I'm having with you this month is diaper changes. You roll over like a stunt man flying off a dirt bike the second your back hits the shanging pad. It's been interesting trying to find that one thing that will keep you occupied long enough to get the old diaper off, swab you down, and get the new one on. Sometimes I'll dangle my hair in your face, sometimes I'll dig out a new toy for you to play with. When it's really too difficult I'll have your Papa entertain you while I change you, and on those (not-so) rare days when you refuse to even stay sitting I'll change you standing up. Which doesn't work when you poop, and my Angel, you've finally started having more real-person poops. And much more often.

But I love watching you try new things. Papa bought you a piano this week, and your Nonny bought you a Dora ride-on that you love to play with. It hs all these buttons that play music, and when the tunes start going, you're jamming in your seat, head banging, and clapping your hands together. My wish for you is that you develop rhythm like neither your Papa nor I have. Don't get me wrong Love, Papa and I love to dance, we just mainly look like fools doing it. And hopefully that rhythm will overflow into you playing some sort of instrument, maybe the guitar or piano. Whatever makes you happy.

Ducky, I know I say this every month, but I can'y beleive how big you are getting. You are cruising, crawling, pulling up, sitting by yourself, you can pick stuff up and everything goes into the mouth and as much as I may complain, I love seeing you as a person and not just some helpless baby. You scream bloody murder when I take a toy from you, and I adore when you raise your arms up to me, or pull on my pants when you want me to pick you up. And the babbling warms my heart every time. I have no clue what you are trying to say, but you do, and Jackson and Dakota do, and you seem so content to just babble along while I sing to you, and sometimes start shrieking in pure joy.

I'll be sending your modeling pictures tomorrow. I think you'll be terrific, and anything that helps us to sock away a little more for your college fund, and hopefully get you some free clothes, sounds good to me. I'm totally prejudiced, I know, but I think you are the most wonderfully beautiful and entertaining baby in the world. And you love taking pictures, posing whenever the camera comes out, making faces, smiling, crawling around and turning back to make sure your every move is being recorded. Maybe you'll be an entertainer when you grow up, do Toastmasters, or drama, or be a singer. Buy your Mama a nice car one day....

Your first Easter was fabulous. Your Tia Tere made you an Easter basket, and your prima Johana gave you one too. You loved digging through and pulling out the toys and the doll, but you weren't too interested in the eggs. I tried to walk you around to find some, but I ended up scratched up from a rose bush, and you were eating leaves off the lawn instead of picking up eggs. But we had a blast, like I always do with you, and I'm so excited for next year when you'll be running around finding eggs yourself.

And I love evrything about you, but seeign you interact with other babies is hilarious. Partly because you are usually the smallest of the bunch, and yet still the most aggressive, and most mobile. You'll snatch a toy right out of Dakota's hand, but you try to give it back when he starts crying. Or you'll pretty much tackle Jackson, but then pet his hair when he calms down too. I think you aren't sure how strong you are, and want to touch and play with all the other kids, even when they aren't old enough to interact with you like your cousins do. I can see you in a year being the child to invite strangers to play with your toys with you, or share your candy.

So Duckie, my Angel, my Sweet LimaBean Baby. I can't thank you enough for opening up my heart, and letting me appreciate every day that I get to see your beautiful face. You have done so much for Mama by just being you. And thank you too for sleeping through the night, 11 hours straight, for the past two night.

I love you.
Mama