Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Twelve Months Old

12 months.

12 months?

12 months!

Tata and I still look at you and then look at one another and smile and say, "We made that."  In other words, it's amazing that God literally took the best of Tata and the best of me and made you.  You got no bad parts.  You're perfect.

Our family goal was to stay at home with you for the first year of life.  With smartphones turned off and cable disconnected, we were able to financially swing it.  And it was worth it.  But now with you walking and talking its time to expand our horizons.  You're heading to "school" two days a week while I work part-time.  I think this will be a very good thing.

You are eating everything we eat.  Its fun sitting down together and splitting an orange for breakfast or a sandwich for lunch.  Its even better sitting down as a family of three every evening for dinner.  I get it now- family is everything.

You love babies.  You always have one tucked underneath of your arm.  They get lots of random hugs and kisses.

You really enjoy puzzles.  You know what pieces go where.  Although I have to help turn them so they fit snugly in their appropriate home.

You take one nap a day.  It usually lasts 2 hours.

You can do two animal sounds.  Dog consists of two low grunts in a row.  Cow is one long drawn-out MOOOOOO.  You're good.

You're up to a size 3 diaper.  20% percentile in weight.  90% in height.

We got an iPad for Christmas.  You're (too put in mildly) OBSESSED.  After a few minutes of milk and alone time on the couch first thing in the morning, you make your way into the bedroom and grab your favorite piece of technology off the night stand.  You scroll through the PBS KIDS app for your favorite cartoons.  You're such a new-millenium kid.

You bring me book after book throughout the day.  Once you have successfully delivered your pick of literature you turn around so that your back is to me.  You turn your head to the side to peak over your shoulder to line up your bum with my lap.  When all is a-go, you let all muscles relax in your legs and that padded bottom falls fast and heavy.

We sing lots of nursery rhymes.  You recognize all and dance accordingly.  But when we sing Old MacDonald, you sing along to the E-I-E-I-O part.  Except your version sounds more like E-I-E-I-E-I-E-I.  I love it.

Your hair is still coming in slowly but surely.  We call it a Mohawk Mullet.

Your walk has turned into a speed-walk at times.  You're one step away from running.

You love to throw and kick balls.  I think you're going to be a softball or soccer superstar.

We think you are perfect. (I can't say it enough.)

We think you are the most beautiful baby we have ever seen.

We love you like crazy.

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