Monday, August 7, 2006

Monthly Newsletter, Month Eleven

Dear Nate,

You're 11 months old, and life is so very good. When I think about this past month, it's almost like you're a different child than you were last month.

I can't think of anything that I would change about you, Nate. You are a dream child. You're active and busy, and such a go-getter. Nothing scares you, except when I start talking after we've been quiet for a while. Then you scutter across the floor to me, pull up on my legs, and start crying. You're a funny baby.

Last month, I was so excited to catch a photo of you standing up. Now, you're walking. Granted, you're drunker than a drunken sailor, but you're definitely walking. Today I counted 14 stiff-legged, staggering steps across the room. You took your first step on July 14th, and you have never looked back. You crawl when you need to, but you walk as much as you can. If not for the diaper, your rear would be one big black-and-blue mark. But you walk, fall, and get right back up to walk more. And fall more. And more getting back up. And the falling.

You are still climbing stairs, but you've added in a Nate note: you slap each step a few times as you climb along. Just another happy-go-lucky move from my happy-go-lucky little kid.

We walk to Westminster Park at least twice a week so you can play in the fountains. You love it - flapping your arms, splashing in the puddles on the ground, and walking straight into the sprays, spluttering and grinning the whole time.

You are big into the interactive games now. Your favorite game is catch, and you started playing this game with your Grandpa. He rolls you the ball, you grab it (sometimes even bending down to grab it as it rolls at you, so needless to say we're already contacting scouts about your eye-hand coordination), and then you get it back to him. I say "get it back" because there's no set method - sometimes you fling it, sometimes you drop it and it accidentally gets back towards Grandpa, and sometimes you take the direct route and walk it back to him. You then hoot for him to roll it back to you, which is hard because you're standing 6 inches away. So he'll hand it to you, and you take great pleasure in delivering it back to him again. It's so precious I can hardly put down the video camera to play with you.

You had our first summer visit to Noconomo as a family. You swam in the lake, ate your body weight in food, and charmed the pants off of your family. It was such a dream to watch you playing with your cousins, and they were so sweet with you. Connor took special care with you, fetching balloons for you to pop and toys for you to chew on.

It took a few days for you to warm up to the cool lake water, but we got you there. I know that in a few years we're going to be fighting to get you out of the water.

I wish I was a funny, snarky, realistic blogger whose love seeps quietly through the writing. But my heart is an open gush since you've been born, and I can't pretend it isn't. You're my heart, Nate.


1 comment:

Laura Lohr said...

Your letters are beautiful just the way they are! He is going to cherish them forever:-)