Letter to Hank #9 - Growing Pains

My My, you've grown! You are 11 months old and are a little boy now. Not a snuggly bundle of baby mush but a boy getting ready to walk and hit more milestones every week!

We can see your emotions and I saw a full on pout the other day. That bottom lip pooched out and later on I'll have to remember that I wanted to just grab it and kiss it. Later on I might wish you didn't have a mouth; all traces of cuteness gone replaced with angst and raw willpower. I assume all this about teenagers only because that was me. You aren't me and how thankful I am for that!

I still don't think it's set in that I'm your Momma. I'm a Mom?!? What?? I have to teach you playground ethics, consequences, fun and moderation?? Biting is your favorite pastime right now - like you can't resist when you know that Mommy's underarm is just so soft and tender. Saying no somewhat calmly when you have a gopher attached to your pit isn't easy. You may be coming in for a kiss but you're sneaky and apt to bite and run. Hopefully, we can curb this before you start leaving teeth semicircles on stuff. Your crib has taken a beating already. And never mind my anxiety that I have lead paint in my house - oh lord.

And you take off your diaper at times when it negatively impacts your environment. When I've left you for a moment to play in your crib is not the time. I know YOU thought it was funny! Beware, I have pictures of you in there with a piddle puddle and I know how to use them.

Your hair is growing to long to stand up and that makes me sad. I've had so much pleasure messing your hair up out of the Tom Brokaw doo that it naturally falls into...sigh, just like your Daddy. Now I use a little product and get a really good fauxhawk but out in public you just have sweet baby hair. I still joke that I kiss your head so much I'll give you a receding hairline. And I KNOW you have flash spots in your eyes from the constant pictures, sorry if you get cataracts later cuz of us!

We are coming to the end of nursing and that is bittersweet. I'm gonna miss you. It's been hard at times but I'll never ever regret the mastitis, lugging that pump around, or the care that I took to keep milk ready for you always despite lack of support. I wasn't willing to just quit when it got tough. It was so worth it. We may not have prevented colds like the books say but we're a Momma and Baby team. Here I go for my first real letting go event. I'll grieve a little but we're ready.

Dressing you is an adventure. Period.

Your motto is: Outta my way!

Hank, you never have gone though separation anxiety. For me that's wonderful! I don't worry about you (only in this situation!) You don't fuss when I leave at daycare or in the church nursery - which is really cool cuz other ones do so I feel a little proud of us heehee.

I call you Pootie a lot.

You put yourself to sleep at night! Even if you still don't sleep through the night but you'll get there one day. You have to or I'll just slip you a roofie. I kid, I kid....

I carry you on my back like a little bug and you don't mind. I think the only things you really do mind are green veggies and getting a diaper change. i guess you think flopping around like a fish is gonna make me not do it but your dead wrong. You stink, boy.

I'm planning your 1st Birthday party this weekend. I know I have 4 weeks left but this is a big deal. You made it. I made it. Your Daddy made it. And that's something to celebrate!