Butter Bulletin: 13 Months

Dear Eliot,

First, let me apologize for the lack of regular posts on your blog in your first year. It's just that I have a hard time tearing myself away from looking at your sweet angel baby face all day long. And at night I just lay in bed and think about you. Oh, and I was sometimes washing your poopie diapers and cleaning up your O's and goldfish crackers and working for the psychologists and sometimes even hanging out with Daddy, holding hands on the sofa. But otherwise, I have been spending all my free time WORSHIPING you.


Today you are thirteen months old. I'm superstitiously hoping this month passes by quickly, because for some unknown reason your father and I have a real aversion to the number 13. It is likely rooted in the nefarious reputation of the number as bad luck, but it has permeated our consciousness, and Daddy won't even allow the volume on the TV or stereo to be set at 13. And 12 is too quiet. But 14 is sometimes too loud. Hopefully this thirteenth month of yours will help snap us out of this ridiculous behavior.


You had quite a month this month. You received a lot of very nice gifts from all your friends and family for your birthday, and you spent the month playing with them all. You love to sit and look at your books; sometimes allowing us the honor of actually reading them to you. You love animals and you make this really excited "Ooohhh, oooohhh!!" sound when you see them. You even kiss the page sometimes when there is a kitten in a book. We gave you my (admittedly disgustingly stained) Cabbage Patch Doll (Kent Abe) from when I was a little girl and you are in love. It is the only thing you allow in your crib (everyone else is evicted as soon as you get in) and in the mornings you hold him and kiss his pen-marked and poxed face. I found an exact replica of Kent on eBay and we're patiently awaiting his arrival. I can't wait to write your name on his birth certificate.


And the phone. You are still completely obsessed with all things telecommuncatory. You have actual conversations that involve pauses and rebuttals. You laugh at things the caller tells you. If an actual telephone is unavailable, you improvise. I've seen you talk on stuffed animals, spoons, blocks, and even your hand. You hold it up to your ear as if you are a reporter out on location getting a message from the news desk. It's my favorite.


You have a new word that sounds like this - Schsssss. This sound means the following: cheese, keys, nipsies, and most recently, crackers. Oh, and snakes say schsssss. You also say ball and when we tell you no, you tell us na, na, na. Also sometimes when we tell you no, you laugh at us. We are not big fans of that, so, do what you can about just doing what you're told, okay?

Most importantly though, you said Mama. Thank you. I was beginning to feel a little neglected. Although, you could say it more. Especially since Dada is your favorite word. Maybe just one day of saying it over and over again like you do for Dada every day. Think about it. And if you decide against it, I'm never buying Gerber's Lil' Crunchies Zesty Tomato flavor ever again.

This was the month of the scream. Your mind has obviously well advanced past your limited vocabulary, and so when you aren't in need of Schsssss, you yell. In a screamy way. And it's really loud. Fortunately it is usually accompanied by a pointed finger, though that doesn't always provide a clue, as sometimes I think what you want is everything in all the world all at once. Especially if it is really sharp or pointy or expensive. When I comment that you are SO loud, Daddy always says (in his soft soft normal speaking voice), "Hmmm...I wonder where he got that from". Daddy thinks he's funny.


We sold our house this month and we're in the process of finding a new place to call home. The reality that our first year with you in this house is going to be the place where other people make their memories is definitely sad. In this house you slept in our bed, had your first smile, laughed your first giggle, learned to crawl, learned to cruise and walk (4 steps total!); you learned to climb the stairs, and terrorized the floors with your wagon. So now we'll make new memories, in a new, much less expensive (in a not crippling-your-parents-with-financial-stress kind of way) place and they will be just as wonderful. Because, Baby Butter, wherever you are, is where we will always want to be. And no matter where that is, it will always be good.

Love always,
XOXO,
Mumma