Although I'm glad to see January gone for the year, it's bittersweet to find myself on the morning of your ten month birthday and know you are one month closer to being a year old. Lately, I find myself rocking you in my arms before naps and bedtime because I know you won't let me cuddle with you this way for much longer. The realization that your time as a baby is waning is so evident to me in your achievements. I already see you more as a little boy now than my tiny baby.
You're right on the verge of walking. Maybe some would even say you are walking, just very badly. Our living room is often situated like an obstacle course made up of your toys. You cruise along the couch and pivot to the ottoman to make your way to your Jeep and over to the fireplace hearth. It's hard to get anything accomplished because I find myself constantly interrupted watching to see what you are doing. I love the concentration on your face as you will your foot to take that step away from the security of whatever you are holding. Even when you fall, you impress me with your resilience. Thank goodness for your well padded bottom.
Your favorite game is to crawl around and around the ottoman playing peek-a-boo with us.
You have developed some strange fears in the last few months: the hairdryer, the coffee grinder, girl babies, to name a few. Last month, you played hard to get when one of your girlfriends came over to visit.
Most days, you happily play independently, rummaging through your toy basket and eventually covering every square inch of living room with your colorful baubles. Your playmate is Mr. Foot, an orange large-footed stuffed Seussian character (not to be confused with Lamby, your sleepy time love) and you'll carry him with you from toy to toy.
Occasionally, you will take a break from play and help me with the internets or assist me in folding laundry. You even helped me put your toys away a few days ago. We may need to start discussing allowance soon.
A new personality has emerged in you in the last month, we call it Evil North. You've always happily jibber jabbered to yourself during play, but every now and then it takes on a dark tone. I haven't been able to catch it on video in all it's glory. But your voice gets very low and sinister like a witchdoctor, as you utter incantations and presumably cast spells on us. The video shows your range and ability to go from Evil North straight into Pterodactyl Boy without missing a beat. (The volume needs to be up to actually hear Evil North.)
Today, I noticed the tulip tips are starting to sprout from the ground. They are always my favorite indicator of spring being right around the corner. But this year, they are also counting down to the anniversary of the day you arrived. Even nature is preparing to celebrate that day for you.