Rawkin' the 'Hawk
Happy 11 months, my special guy. Sheesh. Only one more month to go till the big f-i-r-s-t birthday. Where does the time go? Does it goes so fast because I have the cutest and sweetest baby in the history of the planet? Or maybe even the universe?
I think one of my favorite things about him is his hair. It is so incredibly soft, and has a lingering, subtle, eau de Johnson's Baby air about it. It is also funny looking because he has a pronounced baby mullet. Despite his advanced age, he has little up top and so much in the back that it curls. We talk about cutting it all the time, especially when it falls over his ears on the sides because it's so long -- this mullet is so out of control that it may be sucking IQ points from him in his sleep. Regardless of his hair fashion sense, I think about his little blond locks (like mine!) all the time. When he was having his sleep issues and wouldn't sleep without me every night, I used to stroke his precious little head to bring his snooze on, and when he would fall asleep I would bury my nose in his hair and allow my heart to quietly break. When he's awake and we're hanging out, I'll absent-mindedly finger the back of his neck and play with his mullet-curls. Alicia told me once that he woke up from a nap at day care and was really fussy, no matter what she did, until she started playing with his hair in the back and then he collapsed on her and cooed contentedly. Much to Dad's dismay, I also enjoy styling his hair when wet into adorable and embarrassing coifs. My specialty? The mohawk:
At 11 months, he possesses four teeth, two top and two bottom -- a neighboring top tooth poked through about a week ago and I didn't notice because it snuck through in the front and not straight down through the middle of his top gums. He says "Dada" and "Kitty" not every time, but definitely with regularity, and there are unconfirmed reports as of this morning that he is trying to say "Banana". He now pets the cat gently and frequently, and I have caught him, as we do, lovingly fingering the cat's ear as they both stare out the window. He loves doing anything outside, and with the improving weather we are making outside time a new part of our repertoire. He can stand by himself for 10 seconds at a time, and has very, very occasionally made a move to step, but by and large seems to ignore the possibility of walking. Why walk when you are the fastest crawler ever? As detailed in previous posts, he is also working on falling asleep on his own and staying asleep through the night. Our goal, though, is to have him walking by the time Grandma & Grandpa Ross get here for his birthday, and Dad has a practice regimen and special orthopedic baby torture shoes, courtesy of Grandma Ross, to help us accomplish this goal.
I think one of my favorite things about him is his hair. It is so incredibly soft, and has a lingering, subtle, eau de Johnson's Baby air about it. It is also funny looking because he has a pronounced baby mullet. Despite his advanced age, he has little up top and so much in the back that it curls. We talk about cutting it all the time, especially when it falls over his ears on the sides because it's so long -- this mullet is so out of control that it may be sucking IQ points from him in his sleep. Regardless of his hair fashion sense, I think about his little blond locks (like mine!) all the time. When he was having his sleep issues and wouldn't sleep without me every night, I used to stroke his precious little head to bring his snooze on, and when he would fall asleep I would bury my nose in his hair and allow my heart to quietly break. When he's awake and we're hanging out, I'll absent-mindedly finger the back of his neck and play with his mullet-curls. Alicia told me once that he woke up from a nap at day care and was really fussy, no matter what she did, until she started playing with his hair in the back and then he collapsed on her and cooed contentedly. Much to Dad's dismay, I also enjoy styling his hair when wet into adorable and embarrassing coifs. My specialty? The mohawk:
At 11 months, he possesses four teeth, two top and two bottom -- a neighboring top tooth poked through about a week ago and I didn't notice because it snuck through in the front and not straight down through the middle of his top gums. He says "Dada" and "Kitty" not every time, but definitely with regularity, and there are unconfirmed reports as of this morning that he is trying to say "Banana". He now pets the cat gently and frequently, and I have caught him, as we do, lovingly fingering the cat's ear as they both stare out the window. He loves doing anything outside, and with the improving weather we are making outside time a new part of our repertoire. He can stand by himself for 10 seconds at a time, and has very, very occasionally made a move to step, but by and large seems to ignore the possibility of walking. Why walk when you are the fastest crawler ever? As detailed in previous posts, he is also working on falling asleep on his own and staying asleep through the night. Our goal, though, is to have him walking by the time Grandma & Grandpa Ross get here for his birthday, and Dad has a practice regimen and special orthopedic baby torture shoes, courtesy of Grandma Ross, to help us accomplish this goal.
posted by Claire at 9:16 PM
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