Eleven Months

Dear Nathan,

I apologize already that I may get a little more sentimental than normal in today's letter. Now that you're eleven months, it has hit me like a brick at how close to a year old you are. One short, measly month is all I have until you join the ranks of emerging toddlers and your babyhood is just a memory. To say I'm not prepared is an understatement. Please help me make this month drag on by so that I can make the most of your last month of being the sweet, kissable baby you are.
Your daddy and I often play the game of guessing which one of us you resemble more. It goes without saying that you have Daddy's hair. I love the little curls that pop up over your ears and around your neckline. When Daddy was little like you, his hair was every bit as blonde as yours as well. It doesn't matter to me whether you stay towheaded like you are or if you get Daddy's dark hair, as long as you keep those curls. As far as your facial features, you also resemble Daddy, although I see bits and pieces of my grandfather and Gigi. I think you're going to be a particularly cute mix of all the genetic lines that went into making you.

The biggest development of the last month is your newfound mobility. Kid, you're fast! I can't understand how you can cross the room in a blink (or two) without ever getting on your knees and crawling. You're scooting lots faster than new crawlers. You've actually found that you prefer scooting to army crawling because you can control where you're going better this way. I think the tendency to get where you wanted to go backwards was starting to frustrate you.

I'm actually quite proud of you for finding a way to get where you're going even when crawling was proving too difficult at the moment. It's clear to me that you march to the beat of your own drummer (and dance to it too--too cute!). You don't care what you're supposed to be doing; you're going to do what you want, when you want. You'll crawl eventually, I'm sure, but there's no rush as long as you can still get where you're going. I'm not worried about your insistence to do things your own way either because you are so worried about pleasing me and Daddy already that you won't do anything that you've found makes us angry or disappointed. I'm afraid you take after me with that quality. You're going to grow up doing things your own way, but you'll have an overdeveloped sense of right from wrong. That's certainly a mixed blessing for all of us.

Here's an example of what I'm talking about: The other day you bit me while nursing. I gently pulled you back to remind you not to do that. You bit me again when I let you nurse again. This time I firmly told you no and gave you a gentle tap on your diaper to let you know I was serious. You broke out in the most pitiful cries. You weren't hurt, you just hated that I had told you no. You hated to think that you'd disappointed me. You're creative, clever, and persistent, but you can't handle being told you're doing something wrong. I'm thrilled that you want to only do things that are right, but I'm worried that at some point in the future you are either going to hold back from trying something in case it is wrong or someone is going to tell you what you're doing isn't right simply because it is different and squash that independent spirit you have.

Now that you're mobile, your relationship with Patrick is changing yet again. Suddenly you can get to his toys that have previously been kept out of your reach. The two of you are being forced to learn the hard lesson about sharing. Right now we're trying to find a compromise between toys that are definitely Patrick's, toys that are definitely yours, and toys that might have been Patrick's before but are good toys for both of you to play with. Neither of you is very happy to have a toy taken away, though, whether it was stolen from the brother or if I had to confiscate it because it wasn't yours. Patrick is finally starting to show some jealousy towards you now that you're encroaching on his territory, and when he isn't, he's playing a bit too rough with you. Still, you look up at him with those big adoring eyes and quickly forgive him when he hurts you, accidentally or otherwise.

Lately you've been quite the mama's boy. You've been waking up often at night thanks to some molars considering breaking through your gums, and especially then you have asserted your preference for me over your daddy. You still love having him around and laugh at his antics and try to get his attention, but you want me and only me to hold you. You did the same thing after waking up from a nap yesterday. When you're wide awake, you're more tolerant of snuggles with Daddy, but even then I think you'd be happier with me holding you. I understand that you're going through a mommy phase right now, and secretly I love it. There's something sweet about knowing I'm your everything right now, that only comfort from me will cut it. But my heart breaks for your daddy. He loves you every bit as much as I do, and I know he wants that satisfaction from being able to comfort you as well, just like he used to be able to do when you were just a newborn baby. For his sake, please keep this mommy phase short.

One more month. That's all the time I have to start changing my thinking into that of a mother of a pre-schooler and a toddler. You probably won't start walking the second you turn one and you'll probably still be nursing, but that magic day reminds me that you won't stay my tiny baby forever. I need to be used to the idea of you as a toddler shortly after you turn one anyway. I'm in no way ready for that, though. You've been such a sweet, wonderful baby, and I'm not ready to give that up yet, even if I'm trading that in for a sweet, wonderful toddler.

I've told you this before, and I'm going to tell you again: Take your time growing up. There's no rush. You can stay my baby boy just a little longer if you want to. But Mommy is going to love you every bit as much, even when you do embrace toddlerhood--all too soon.

Love,

Mommy