Friday, July 29, 2011

11 Months

Dear Abraham,

You are 11 months old today. I didn't even know babies got that old. I definitely never thought you would get that old; at least, I didn't think that in the first 4 months of your life.
So here's a little bit about you and the last two months:
You learned to pull yourself around the floor in a sort of, "my legs don't work but my arms do" kind of way at 9 months. You did that for over a month. I was worried we should be signing you up for the short bus, or at the very least, art school. As it turns out, you were just warming up. When you turned 10 months old you started crawling. And as they say, you never looked back. You're a FAST crawler, too. Your little hands and knees sounds like mice galloping across our wooden floors.
Dogs barking and mommy's hair are the two funniest things in your life. Also, handing things to people is a total gas. It never gets old and always deliver the perfect, little giggle.
You love just about every food there is. Even pulled pork.
You've got three and a half teeth. One of the top ones keeps tempting you with cutting through. Some mornings your little gums are all bloody and bruised. It's so incredibly sad for me when you are in pain.
You can climb. Everything. You climb stairs, cabinets, stools, window sills, the dogs, the dishwasher, the list goes on. You do not have great spacial awareness, as often times you hit your head and then get very angry. I try to warn you but you never listen.
Walks make you introspective and incredibly quiet. People who talk to you make you scream (I think you think you're talking to them). The swing gives you a sweet, peaceful disposition. And you're a perfect angel in every store. I love that about you.
You're not really a stay-at-home-baby. As long as we are out and about, or you are figuring out a new place, everything is kosher. Home, however, is a different story. You've learned how to throw tantrums at home. Whenever your daddy or I open the front or back doors, you RACE to get to them. Then, when we close them (even when no one has left), you lose your marbles. You throw yourself, face down, on the floor and scream and kick and seemingly shout, "WHY WOULD YOU OPEN A DOOR IF WE'RE NOT GOING THROUGH IT?? WHYYYYY?"
You also sincerely love dog food. There's no fair way for me to explain to you why you shouldn't eat it, and a happy Abe that does not make.
We've done so much traveling this summer and you've been a real champ. I think it's been harder on me than on you. Thank you for loving traveling as much as your daddy.
You are strong, strong-willed, handsome, determined, focused, and funny. I love your super tight hugs and your sloppy kisses and your scratched up knees. I am so thrilled to have you in my life everyday. And in one month, I'm going to look at you and say, "Happy Birthday, bud!! You're 1!" (Can you believe that?!)

I love you,

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