You are now 10 months old. Double digits!!! I can’t believe it! It is amazing how quickly time flies, and you almost don’t realize all the cool things that are happening while you’re in the middle of them. Last night, you were sitting on the floor of the bathroom “brushing” your teeth (I used quotes because what you do barely bears any resemblance to actually brushing your teeth except for the fact that there is a toothbrush and a small amount of toothpaste involved. You treat the toothbrush more like a lollipop. Or a floor scrubber. Building up those immunities, kid!) Anyway, you were “brushing” your teeth, and you had dropped your toothbrush on the floor. I watched you as you bent over and deliberately wrapped your little fingers around it, picked it up, and popped it back in your mouth. (Yes, I let my child put a toothbrush that had fallen on the floor back in her mouth. Sue me. It fell by the sink, not by the toilet, and even if it had fallen by the toilet, she had already licked all the germs off the toilet anyway, so HA!) In that moment, I realized how I take for granted so many of the little things you do these days. Grasping things used to be a big deal for you! For that matter, so did sitting up. And having teeth. But all these things pile up, and they tend to happen so quickly that I don’t treat them like the milestones they are. And by the time another month has come, and it’s time to write another letter, I’m so used to these fun new things that I forget they’re fun new things and don’t write about them. Of course I mention the big things, like crawling and sitting up, but the smaller things sometimes go by the wayside, So, I’m going to mention other fun, little things you can do.
You can use a sippy cup. That one took you awhile, but once we got the kind that has the straw, you figured it out in no time!
You can sit down. I know that seems like a weird thing to mention, but you were able to pull yourself up to stand way before you figured out how to sit back down.
You can give people five. It used to be that you would only do it to an outstretched hand placed palm up, but lately you’ve been doing “high” fives, too.
You can wave. Sometimes. I mean, you always flap your arms, but sometimes you do it when people wave to you, so it seems like it’s intentional then. Who knows, really?
You can say “mama” and “dada.” You say “dadadadada” all in a row, quick and chipper, all the time. You say “mmmmaaaammmaaaaa” all low and mournful when you’re upset about something. It’s pretty funny, actually. It’s pretty much debatable as to whether you fully understand what you’re saying, but last night you stood up, clung to my legs, and deliberately and distinctively said, “Mama.” It was ah-mazing!
Lately you’re obsessed with light switches. If I’m carrying you around and we come close to a switch, we have to stand there for a few minutes while you play with it. Yesterday, you created quite the disco in Papi’s kitchen.
You also really, really enjoy the bathroom. You like to play around the tub and the toilet, specifically. You will stand between the tub and the toilet and rattle the handle while booty dancing to the music you’ve created. If we’re not watching, you’ll try to chew on the toilet. If we’re in the shower, you want to open the curtain. You spend a lot of time trying to get into the cabinets. You also try to put your hand in the toilet, even if one of us is sitting on it. Your dad and I have both been the recipient of a cold baby hand to the ass cheek mid-potty-visit. (Sorry, but it wouldn’t be fair to hide the embarrassing details. You’ll laugh about it one day!)
You still love to dance, and will dance to any available beat. I have banged around on the bathtub and done some very pathetic beat-boxing which both yielded excellent dancing results. You started dancing to “How Great Thou Art” in the middle of a funeral this weekend, which led to some inappropriately timed laughter, but was precious and hilarious. You will dance to ANYTHING.
You like how I just threw that funeral part in there? I’m purposefully avoiding the second half of this letter, the part where I have to talk to you about some serious stuff. I’m just not there yet, mentally and emotionally. I’ve started working on it, and I’ll finish it soon, but I just can’t do it right now.
I love you bunches and bunches and bunches!