Today you are the big 1-1. Eleven months is kind of a weird birthday. You're not a baby, not yet a toddler. You're almost single digits, but not quite. It's kinda like turning 9, or 12, except those are real birthdays but to me, every month is a huge deal. Me and your Daddy were going over where we were 11 months ago, just like we did when you were 10 months, 9 months, 8...
Me:"You were holding up the pain management chart, taking a pain assessment based on facial expressions."
Him:"And you were crossing your eyes."
Me:"You were trying to make me laugh."
Him:"And you were sobbing your eyes out."
Him:"You were pushing a head out of your va-googoo"
Me:"And you were trying not to pass out."
We were so totally clueless and probably still are but what the hell? It's good times, am I right? You can speak now, kind of. You can say Hi (Hiiieiei) and Cooper (Cookaaahh) and Mama (Mamama) and Dada (Dadoo) and you can also say Hydriodic (Hydriodic) which is impressive and you can wave! You can also give ten, but no high fives. Sooooo like you to just skip the five and go for the ten. That's why I love you, kid.
You still are not crawling, although you can get on your hands and knees and scream for five minutes without moving. We call it the scrawl (screamcrawl). You also refuse spoons and baby food and you want to pick up everything with your own hands which is very mature and grown-up of you and makes it easy for me when we leave the dogs to babysit you on Saturday nights. You like trying to pull my eyes out of my head and post-it notes are your current favorite toy.
The other day I spent the day without you and I kept checking my pockets and my purse thinking I forgot something. It was an uncomfortable feeling to have, like I lost an earring or my sunglasses fell off without my knowing, but it was because you were at home and I was running around town like a mad woman trying to get my errands done so I could rush home and eat your freaking nose. It's a cute nose and I can't help it. It's delicious.
So on this odd-unbirthday-birthday, so close to being a one-year old which I am quite unable to wrap my head around because it kind of seems impossible and I guess I'm supposed to plan a party for you or something because that is what moms do when their kid turns one which is silly because you don't even like people right now but maybe we'll go to the aquarium or the Chinese restaurant with the fish tanks full of puffy-eyed goldfish because you like fish and because I can see your smiling reflection in the glass.
And, and and... Happy eleven-months, little monkey. Love you infinity x infinityplex.