11 months

Dear Ell,

Today you turned 11 months old. Which means two things- first, we are almost finished with the winter, the snow, and therefore snowsuits. Second-you will be one year old the next time I write you a letter, something that blows my mind since I feel like the time you have been here has felt like forever on ultra fast forward. That probably makes no sense, but I can't imagine my world without you now, and at the same time-weren't you too small for newborn sized clothes and incapable of smiling on your own five minutes ago?

This month you have figured out a little baby sign language. I've been trying to show you some practical signs to help you communicate with us, and maybe a few vain ones too (Momma? Please? Sign Momma?! Okay fine, sign Daddy? Something?) but until the last few weeks you seemed to not really get it. Then one day I figured out that since you hadn't quite grasped putting your hands together to clap, you'd bang one arm on whatever the nearest surface was. This was how you responded to music, and how you indicated you'd like more. It's also how you indicate "all done", which is confusing. More? No, since you threw those crackers the banging must mean you're finished. Ah- now we're communicating!

You've also figured out waving (which looks identical to your sign for milk), and you wave all the time. At strangers in the supermarket or at restaurants, to Daddy or our friends when they leave our house, and anytime I go near the stairs or to take you to bed. You are a waving fool. You're trying hard to walk, and get a little closer each day. You love music and dance all the time. You fake cry when you are tired, and think someone sneezing is the most hilarious thing you've ever seen.

You probably won't remember him, but you lost your first pet this month. I bought Jack the summer before your Dad and I got married, and he was a great dog. He seemed alarmed when we brought you home from the hospital and cried, and would run to the crib and then to us like "Um, that thing in the bedroom is broken! What do we do?!" Then you started to crawl around after him and pull his fur, and so he stayed clear of you. But when you got to finger foods, he stayed close by your side to snag the treats you at first accidentally dropped, but then later would drop on purpose and watch him scarf up. Although he occasionally went to the diaper pail and pulled your diapers out (never tearing them up, just carefully taking out and then placing on the floor), we couldn't have asked for a better dog.

You are becoming more of a little boy every day. One who makes noises like a bear and makes car sounds as you roll them (ahem, knock them) across the floor. A little boy who likes books and music and people. Who hates snow suits and mittens and being told no. Don't worry guy. The snow usually goes away by April.

Love,

Momma