Ten Months

Dear Noah,

Dude.  You are BUSY.  There is so much to do and see, so many places to go and people to talk to.  I can hardly hold you still because you know there is something much more fun happening right around the corner.  I knew this was inevitable, the moving and grooving, but I was slightly unprepared for it.  I had myself all worked up that you were never going to crawl and BAM!  You just one day up and did it and you haven't stopped moving since.  You're pulling yourself up on anything you come across...the ottoman, the couch, the chairs, me, Daddy, the dog (and I wouldn't do that again if you know what's good for you).  You haven't yet figured out how to stand in your crib but it's only a matter of time.  And I've cursed myself by saying that.

This past month has been a steady as (s)he goes kind of month.  Everyday you become less of a baby and more of a toddler who doesn't quite toddle.  You have set ideas on what needs to happen and when and you're quite vocal about it all.  Especially about the injustices of the world like bath time or pajama time or god forbid, bed time.  Woe is you when it comes to bed time!  You turn into this screaming, wriggling, biting monkey type creature who protests the whole bed time routine (unless we open your dinosaur book and then you're content to sit for 3.4 minutes) and when we finally put you in your crib you look at us like we were holding out on you.  So what is it, buddy?  You scream because you WANT to go to sleep?  Curious.  I tell you, we're like newbies over here every. stinking. day.   But once you're in your crib you grab at your blankie, kiss Elmo and drift off peacefully like the past ten minutes never happened.   We'll get it together soon, I promise.

You've started to figure out our route to the park and when it comes into view you start to grunt in excitement.  A quick swing and all is right in your world.  I've begun to say "bye bye park, see you tomorrow" when we leave because you tend to arch your back and try to throw yourself to the ground when I remove you from the swing to go home.  And if we say bye bye, you wave and then you're happy.  Because waving bye bye (or hi, for that matter, it's all the same to you) is the best thing in the entire world.  You'll wave at me when I put you to sleep, you wave at the dog when she's sitting under your highchair hoovering up your fallen food, you wave at the leaves blowing across the deck, you wave at Daddy when he leaves the room, I could go on and on.  Except you won't wave on demand when we're actually saying goodbye to a friend.  About 5 minutes later you're in your car seat or stroller and you start waving...and it never fails to make me laugh.

Baby boy, you're turning into a pretty sweet little kid, but it's breaking my heart a little that we're already planning your first birthday party because that means you're growing up.  And I demand that you stop it this instant.  Right now.  I mean it.  Stay little forever, yet keep growing.  It's a mother's constant refrain.  I love you my darling baby.  

Love,

Mama