Dear Fred-Fred -
Sorry for the late-ness. We're STILL dealing with the sickness that ate West Virginia. The past dozen days or so have been a bit of a challenge for dear old Ma here. Let's just say that the amount of vomit I've been exposed to (both human and other species) in the past week and a half have been more than most people see in three lifetimes, and I'll be more than happy to forget the past few days.
Barkeep? Make mine a double!
Other than the epic sick, things have been great this month. You continue to develop a personality that is rivaled by no one. You are endlessly pleasant, and when you're not, you are simply quiet. I can't think of a better quality in a baby. You have nothing but love for your momma, and you can even rock business casual!
This month you learned to walk. BUT! You also learned to sign. I've been showing/teaching you the signs for a bunch of things like 'eat' 'more' and 'milk' just to name a few. Guess which one was your first???
What can I say? He loves him some boobies!
Besides milk, you've decided to try some new foods. Toast of many varieties seems to be a hit.
I just can't get enough of you, baby B. Anyone who has been to my house can attest to that, because I'll let the laundry and dishes pile up just for a chance to get down on the floor and be your own personal jungle gym.
When you see me down on your level, your face just beams. You abandon whatever you are playing with and begin charging towards me. When you finally get there, the first thing you do is grab the sides of my face and squeal with delight. Then you usually slime me with a big, wet open-mouthed kiss. It's awesome.
Even though you're a wild child most of the time, you're transitioning from two naps to one, so sometimes you're quite the cuddly boy. You just want to be held and have me scratch your back or belly. And when I put you to bed, you fall asleep nursing, which you haven't done since you were a wee babe. It's so, so lovely, but also so, so hard. You're never going to be that tiny little babe again, and looking down at all 23 pounds and 29 odd inches, it's equal parts easy and hard to imagine you as the not-quite eight pound wonder that came into our lives almost a year ago.
You are my heart baby. Now, and for every valentine's day for the rest of my life.