The Eleventh Month of Millie
Baby Girl,
Let's get one thing straight. Even though you're basically big enough and active enough to be called "toddler" now, you'll always always be my Baby. It fills me with all sorts of competing emotions when I realize that this is your last month as a ___-month-old. Next month, you'll be aged in years and that mostly kills me. But it also excites me. And terrifies me. And fills me with an intense amount of joy. I can't wait to know more about you. To spend more time learning who you are and what makes you the girl I love so much. But absolutely, I'll miss the tiny fingers that pinch my neck and your constant need to be anywhere I am. Sometimes Mommy gets tired of your persistent neediness, but the second I put you down, my whole being caves in and I can't help but to pick you back up and love on you even more. You have this way about you, Amelia. I don't know what it is, but I can't ever get enough of you. Even when you're desperately tired and fighting sleep for two hours straight (this happened multiple times this month), I love that you still need my chest to fall asleep on. Even when you wake me up 5 times a night for a little more milky, I don't even care that I more resemble a zombie than the pretty girl Dad married 4 years ago. And even when you poop on the floor while I'm washing my hair, I welcome the fact that at least I even have the problem of cleaning it up in the first place. Because Amelia, what I've realized more and more this month is just how much of a miracle you truly are. That out of all the endless possibilities of bringing a person into this world, YOU'RE the beautiful blessing God gave to us all those months ago. Amelia, I would give you my chest to sleep on for your entire life if it was the only way you could find rest. I would wake up every hour of every night if you needed me to. And I would pick up pile after pile of dog-looking poo poo - with shampoo in my hair - if that meant I got to spend just a little more time with you.
My Girl, oh how my heart bursts for you!
I'm obsessed with your face.
I can't get enough of your laugh and your teeth and your big blue eyes that are constantly curious. You're so smart. A fast learner. And our own little child prodigy. In less than 5 minutes, you learned how to whistle a whistle. You can say "baby" and "baseball" and you always always know that Daddy's home by the sound of the garage door. It's shocking to me that something so small can know so much.
This month, you learned how to open cabinets and drawers and constantly, you're getting into things that I didn't even know I needed to baby proof. It's fascinating watching you realize things. You now know how to turn on the lights in our bedroom, and you crack up every time you push the button and the light comes on! I think it's the funniest thing too! You also learned how to lift the flaps in your Spot book and figured out that every time you pull my shirt down, I'll give you milk. I think I ought to change that...
(Your face! I die!)
So, your obsession with that little Nike golfball is really something else (hopefully Under Armour will understand! Ha!)! I think you prefer it because it fits perfectly in your small hands. I'm not sure where it came from, but we take it most everywhere we go. You beat the ground and the wall with it, but mostly, you just like to hold it. Girl after Daddy's own heart!
Clearly, your personality is becoming more and more apparent. You've always been the happiest baby, and now more than ever, that shines through. You're maybe the most social little girl I've ever met and though you do love Mommy time, when you're in a room with other kids, you're the center of attention. After Dada's speech at a local school this month, you crawled to the middle of the gym floor and commanded the attention of about 12 ten-year-olds. You were talking and playing and laughing with them and it was maybe the cutest thing I've ever seen.
I will say, though, that you're being a little baby about one thing in particular. Amelia, you've been standing on your own for a solid two months now. You know you can walk. But we've yet to see those first steps. Every time we give you a little "push," you sit down and cry and beg to be picked up. It's sort of pathetic. But I don't know if I really mind that much. I can't say for sure that I'm ready for you to walk yet. With that comes so much more independence. So even though I thought I'd like to be the proud mommy of a 9-month-old walking baby, I think I just realized that maybe I like the fact that you're a big chicken instead. More cuddle time with me and less worrying where you are!
That laugh is just infectious.
I wish I could somehow capture the sound of your squeal in a photo. It's my favorite thing. I also especially love when you sing songs. Your voice is a melody and you LOVE music. All throughout my pregnancy, I sang and danced and cranked up the volume. Your Mama can't go a day without some good worship music and turns out, neither can you! You dance every day and the three of us are always having dance parties. Life is just so much fun with you.
You can't see in this picture, but Dad is standing above you. He's got the knack of planting smiles on your face. You think it's hilarious when he holds Whitacre WAY up high in the air and then hurls him down to the floor. He could do this for hours with you and he'd still get a laugh of of you after the 400th time. You two are becoming the best of buds, you and Dada. And it melts me.
You and Whitacre are still quite close as well. Just like Dad, you two are best buds. You even bite Whit's nose just like you do to Dada's. It makes all of us laugh.
What I think would really make us laugh though, is if you were able to drag Dad by his nose just like you do to Whitacre! Maybe we'll try that next month!
Other big things to note: whenever I take a shower without you, I tell you to "come give me a kissy," and every time, your crawl over, press your face against the door, and kiss me through the glass. So fun! You've also become my daily workout partner (we just finished 5 weeks of T25!). And this month, you drew your first painting on your magnetic sketch board! We've got a lover, an athlete, AND and artist on our hands, people!
Amelia, I so dearly love every 22.3 pounds and 31 inches of your beautiful self. You've enriched our lives well beyond our ability to even ask and we praise God every day for choosing us to be your parents. Thank you for being so easy. So delightful. And so absolutely adorable. Your curls and FatFat thighs are simply the best, DillerDoo.
All my love, always,
Mama
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