I used to dislike when people would refer to baby’s ages in months past the age of one year. But like all the baseless declarations I made BY (Before You), I have seen the light. I say thirteen months because in the baby days, each month brings changes so drastic that the age really does act a guidepost. And then in the children years the changes slow enough that it’s appropriate to just go year-to-year and well, you know what happens at my age… You just need to say what decade you’re in for a frame of reference. So, not that you asked, I’m in my thirties.
You, perfect angel, turned thirteen months well over a week ago and life has been so full on that here I am now, just finally reflecting.
You have learned a bunch of new tricks since the Big Birthday. You wave. (And guess what, you do it the right way. Take that, backwards-hand waving babies!) You also now bum shuffle so swiftly across the flat that shuffle no longer seems like the right verb. You do scoot around in such a hilarious position that when I was picking you up from nursery the other night, another mother looked at you frogging over to see me and called out to one of the staff, “Is that how he crawls??!!”
And here’s the thing My Jonah- I love that you don’t crawl the traditional way. It’s like how your mommy (me) types. I never learned and so I made it up and now I am frighteningly fast at my own special technique. The pediatrician told me 10% of all babies never crawl but rather shuffle and then transition to walking. TEN PERCENT! I don’t want to jump ahead here but look, you are already so unique and special.
You’re still clapping a lot and you break into some serious body undulations when we turn on music. Again, not that I’m jumping ahead- but I am pretty sure you have crazy good rhythm.
A new trick that makes us laugh is that you pull yourself up and just stand in the crib/cot waiting for us. Which makes all the times we find you laying there so funny. Because we know you’re just being lazy. And I am a total fan of lazy. Don’t tell Daddy because they other day he was explaining to you in no uncertain terms that you have to go to Harvard. And you turned to me, and I was like don’t look at me! They are ugly and don’t know how to party at that school. Because Jonah, those things are important.
I am not sure I have ever written about it but something you have done for ages and ages is when you’re tired you basically talk/hum and when you’re really tired the talk/hum turns into a very loud, constant string of exactly the following: a-goygoygoygogoygoy a-goygoygoygogoygoy a-goygoygoygogoygoy. So we look at you and say, “A-goygoy? Really? That’s so interesting. GO TO SLEEP.” I totally love it.
We had one major setback this month and for once it wasn’t the 72 infections you bring home for nursery each day. It was actually a green squid toy I bought you from Hamley’s. I was so pleased that you and I had a date at the toy store and that I was being such a generous mommy. We put batteries in the squid and dropped it in your bath, waiting for your squeals of delight at the sea creature buzzing all around you while you splashed away. What actually happened was you turned bright red, screamed at the top of your lungs, picked the squid up and threw it out of the bathroom and then pulled yourself out of the bathtub and jumped onto me, clutching my shirt and dripping water everywhere. And we didn’t even know you knew how to pull yourself up much less climb up another human being.
And then it took 10 days before you were willing to sit in the bath again. I hate that squid, too. He sucks.
You can’t get enough of stacking rings and blocks and putting things in containers. It’s fun to see how your play has evolved. You’re starting to love swimming lessons and crazy food tastes and spices (on Father’s Day you started yelling at us when we wouldn’t hand over enough mackerel chopped with horseradish. Seriously.). And every single morning we bring you into our bed and half asleep I sling my arm around you and listen to you excitedly chat away to your toys and books. And I wonder if you have any idea how every morning I am utterly beyond with love.
But I guess my hands-down favorite moment of the month (if one must be chosen from the millions of transcendent moments with you) was one night after I had given you your bath. You were clean and sweet-smelling and wrapped in your dolphin towel and for some inexplicable and random reason I decided to veer from my normal habit of bringing you into your bedroom to get lathered and dressed for bed. I walked straight to the couch and plopped on it with you cradled in my arms and brought your face close to mine. You were sleepy so you were amenable to cuddling. And I said “where’s mommy’s nose?” and with utter nonchalance and purposeful movement, you brought your little hand up and touched the end of your teeny tiny pointer finger to my nose. Like duh. And that was the first moment in my whole wide life in this whole wide world with you as my whole wide baby that I realized you understand what we’re saying. Revelation.
You’re my favorite thing,