11 Months

Delly,
You are 11 whole months old. You look nothing like a baby anymore, even according to Gap and Old Navy clothing sizes, you're a toddler. Yesterday you walked across the kitchen with me, holding on with only one hand. You'll be flying solo soon, baby girl!

You spent a few hours with Grandmommy and Grandpa Joe yesterday so I could have some time alone, while Daddy is away being a rock star. You had a blast with them, and when they took you to Stoney Creek to look at the water you made some new friends as you always do. You're a huge flirt and you especially like to make eyes at men and get all cute and coy. Your new buddies fell in love with you and Grandpa even took a pic of you with them, you are such a ham. Hatton through and through.

You are becoming really affectionate, which is so sweet and special. You hug your stuffed animals all the time, squeezing them and burying your face it them, and you'll give them kisses if I give them kisses first and you mimic me. It's adorable. You try to kiss us sometimes too, which you do by opening your mouth as wide as possible and trying to cover our mouths like you're going to consume our faces or french us or something. You've gotten me, Daddy, and this weekend you got Grandmommy too. You climb all over me when I sit on the floor with you and like to touch my face and stare at me like I'm the most fascinating creature on earth, which I pretty much am.

You are into everything, you will reach up and pull anything off of any table or counter that you can reach. I am developing my Spidey Sense, that fear that all parents get when things become eerily quiet, which inevitably means I'll find you in the middle of the floor surrounded by a pile of tissues that you've pulled one by one out of the box, or your wipes, or an entire roll of toilet paper you've unraveled, etc. You like to stand at the side of the bathtub and look in and drop binkies and toys in there for me to retrieve (arf!), and the other night when I filled it up for your bath, the entire surface was covered with tiny little bits of toilet paper that you had apparently ripped up and dropped in there while I was doing my makeup that morning. The other day while you were happily eating your lunch -- and were properly dressed -- I jumped into the office to send an email to Daddy, and when I came back you looked like this:


You are getting funnier and funnier, and as hard as is it to keep up with you and as tiring and challenging as you are, every day you make me laugh out loud. I can not believe that in less than a month you'll be one year old, Delma. One year full of the biggest fears and anxieties, and the biggest laughs.

Love,
Mommy