You’re on the downhill slide of your first year. 9 months, baby Bird. You’ve been outside just as long as you were inside. It’s been another month of amazement, but I guess that’s what first time mommyhood is all about. It’s been a month full of baby skirts and flip flops, play grounds and picnics, water play and bare bums. Every morning after daddy leaves for work, we crawl out of bed still in our PJ’s and sit on the back porch soaking up the morning sun. I drink my coffee and you occasionally sip on juice in between chasing the boys and picking grass. It’s my new favorite time with you.
Your adventurous spirit is shining through more and more, and even more so you’re becoming quite the adrenaline junkie. There is no bigger smile then when daddy throws you in the air. Your independence only goes so far still, but if by chance you crawl out of sight I know right where to find you- with the boys eating dog food. Nonetheless, you follow commands extremely well for not speaking the English language. Dare I compare you to a dog? You come when you’re called, redirect when told “no”, and respond well to treats. We’re working on sit and stay, but somehow I doubt you’ll master that. Zip is quite your mother hen, wherever you go, he’s right behind you. I’m not sure if he’s keeping you out of trouble or leading you to it; but you and those boys sure are bonded.
But some things never change….you are reminding me of a funny story as I (try) to type. Right now you are prying and prodding at my laptop. You’ve done this since you first laid eyes on it. You have a hardcore obsession with the keyboard and you will not leave it alone. You’ve even gone so far as to delete the entire keyboard system and change the desktop picture. So two months ago, to encourage your sensory skills Auntie Andrea bought you a toy laptop. And you hated it. You hated the noise, the lights, but most of all you hated it open. If that thing is open with in a 20 foot radius, you’ll stop all current activities to shut that danged thing. I just wanted you to have your own, but apparently you like to push mommy’s buttons instead. J
Tractor rides with Grandpa, tennis with Nana, chicken coops with the great’s, and late night phone calls with the Aunties…you’re in high demand, Bird. You are so close to walking. I can see the desire in your eyes every time you stand up. Just one step; that’s all it will take and you’ll be off. I love watching you problem solve. You are so smart and continually way ahead of the curve. It seems baby toys, food, etc. are a thing of the past. You want what the bigs have…especially our food. Since day one you slept right with us in bed, and everyone said the transition to your crib would be hard. But just like everything else, it was easy. I wasn’t emotionally ready to let you sleep alone, but then as if a switch turned on, you and I were both ready for this transition. You took so easy to it. We started putting you to bed in there at 9, and then when you woke up around 2am we would bring you back into sleep with us. And then, all of the sudden, you stopped waking up. You just kept sleeping right on through until 7:30. But that doesn’t mean I don’t sneak in your room in the wee hours of the night to check on you. I miss you at night; I miss watching you sleep so soundly, I miss the intermittent snoring between you and daddy, I even miss waking up to you climbing over my head to get to the boys. But as independent as you may be, know that I’m always close by.
I’m in awe every time I rock you to sleep. Remembering when your entire body fit across my chest, and now it seems there are miles of legs dangling at my side. Everything about you is growing, from your size, to your smarts, to your smile….everything except your hair. No matter how big you are, I’ll always make room for you in my arms for you’ll always be my baby. I love you Bird.