[editor's note... as of 6 days ago.]
Dear Carter,
You’re ELEVEN months old! Every month I think that you sound so much older than the previous month. And it’s true this month, too. The difference between 10 months and 11 months is huge. What’s even more mind blowing is that we have a mere 30 days until we have a one year old running around. I’m even planning your first birthday party. It is so bittersweet for me. I have loved every moment and every stage with you, and I can’t believe we’re leaving babyhood behind as you’re starting to become a toddler. I may start crying now. Anyway…
You are honest to goodness MOBILE now. Last month you were army crawling a little and getting up on your knees here and there. Now you really crawl and I think you enjoy it. You’re pretty darn fast, which is not surprising because you do everything with speed and chaos. You creep along furniture and stand up in your crib ALL THE TIME (especially when you’re supposed to be taking naps). Sometimes you wiggle yourself right out of your pants. You are so very active sometimes your father and I just collapse at the end of the day. We’re two grown adults who outnumber you two to one and yet you still wear us the heck out! You tried to crawl out of your highchair the other day and came far too close to succeeding. I glanced away for mere seconds and when I looked back you had broken free from the straps and were standing up and trying to climb over the back of it. Before you were born I didn’t have any gray hairs. At this rate, I’ll be all gray before I’m 30.
You’re obsessed with clocks and wind chimes. You love to play guitar with your dad, or just crawl over there and try to grab the guitar when you think we’re not looking. Side note: we’re always looking - keep that in mind. You are constantly chattering up a storm and sometimes we still can’t believe the noises that come out of you, from growling to screeching and everything in between. You signed your first word about a week ago: more. It’s really the only sign I’ve taught you and you have fully embraced it. You ALWAYS want more puffs. You start out cute and smiling, but if I don’t give you more of whatever you want, you get very angry in your signing. Your brow furrows and you practically smash your hands together. I think it’s funny that your first word was up and your first sign was more. That’s you in a nutshell: you don’t want to sit still and you don’t want to stop eating.
Sometimes I give you things that you don’t like to eat. You haven’t fully embraced table food, but you don’t like to sit still while we feed you jars. I gave you a few pieces of banana and watermelon a couple of days ago. If you don’t want it, you respond in one of three ways: 1. frantically wave your hands all over the tray until all the food has successfully been flung on the floor 2. rub it in your hair or 3. pick it up, slowly extend your arm out over the side of the highchair and defiantly drop it on the floor. This thrills you and Stella.
Your nickname these days is crazy maniac. No other labels seem to fit you as well as that one. You love disorder and you’re very mischievous. If things are stacked neatly, you want to destroy that order. The other day there was a nice pile of papers on the end table and you crawled right over, pulled yourself up and tossed every single one of them on the floor. Once they were on the floor, you sat back down and proceeded to fling them all around. You laugh when people cry or cough, which is a little distressing in public situations. When we were at Costco a few weeks ago a poor little girl fell down and cried. Unlike most babies who would cry when other kids cry, you leaned back and chuckled. You also laugh when people cough. I almost choked to death on my water last night and you couldn’t contain your delight. I think this is bad news for the future.
While you are a curious explorer most of the time, you do sometimes get a little clingy in new situations. You’re very observant and alert and dare I say subdued and well behaved in those first few moments. You prefer to sit in my lap and take it all in until you’ve deemed the situation acceptable, at which point the façade ends and you showcase that you really are a crazy maniac.
We had a handful of less exciting milestones this month. We all came down with a nasty cold. As a mother, my first instinct with you has always been a. freak out b. google it, which is always followed by c. increase freaking out to epic proportions due to horror stories found through google. I want to take you to the doctor’s office with every sniffle and bump, but I don’t want to be that mom. You’re a kid, you get sick, it’s part of growing up and your immunities are probably pretty strong by now. But this particular cold didn’t let up and on day 10 of sucking snot of your nose (because I love you THAT MUCH) I finally took you to the doctor. To my absolute horror, you had ear infections in both ears and a possible sinus infection. From now on, I’m sticking to the plan of taking you in for every sniffle. We trudged off the pharmacy and picked up Baby’s First Antibiotic, a milestone I didn’t mark on the calendar . Add to that a few new teeth (a total of 8 now with more coming up!) and what I’m pretty sure is a growth spurt and you were one unhappy kid for a while there. The good news is that you LOVE your medicine. I think it’s probably full of sugar, which I don’t give you much of, and the sweetest thing you’ve ever had in your life. You actually get mad when we put it away and won’t give you more.
Two days following that trip to the doctor we celebrated my first Mother’s Day. Despite your illness and a range of other things that didn’t go as planned, it was still a very special day for me. Last year, I was 8½ months pregnant and you were already measuring 7 pounds as I waddled around on Mother’s Day. I could not WAIT to meet you and hold you in my arms. This year, you didn’t want to be held or cuddled or anything remotely confining, but I enjoyed just spending the day with you. When I attempted to rock you to sleep, you pushed off of me and tried to wriggle out of my arms. I gave up and put you to bed. But the next morning after I fed you, you actually fell back asleep in my arms. Go figure. You haven’t done that in at least six months. That was the best Mother’s Day present ever.
You are such a wonderful little person. As we experience life with you we are just so very thankful that we have been blessed by you.
Love,
Mama
