Dear Mack - Month 10

Dear Mack-a-roon,

Month Ten has us coming off of a rough couple weeks of stomach virus and for you double ear infections, so I apologize that this is a bit late, but I still feel like I am recovering and needed a bit more time to get this together. I am somewhat comforted by the fact that you can't yet count, and that by the time you read this and realize I was late this month, I'll probably have humiliated you on your first day of junior high, or been the only mom who insisted on riding in the back seat during driver's education, and that will make this seem like a minor infraction. I hope you'll forgive me.

As a result of this vile illness that swept our home over Thanksgiving weekend, I also have significantly less photos of you this month than previously which makes it easier to pick out a few so there is a small blessing there even though now, I wish I had taken more...but as there times over the last two weeks that you were behaving as if the mere task of breathing oxygen in and out of your lungs was more than you could contemplate without screeching in annoyance every five seconds, I did the best I could.

We started the month together in much better health in Texas celebrating your cousin Bailey's 13th birthday. You were a gem, as always. Bailey loves helping me to take care of you and she does such a fabulous job with you too. You totally fell in love with her and her shiny shiny cell phone that she let you play with. Here you are with her.

You still clap, and kiss and are working on waving and saying "hiya" to just about everyone we cross paths with. You fake sneeze, fake cough and all in all mimic all sorts of sounds you hear which is really quite funny.

Probably the most notable new skill you have this month is dancing. Have I mentioned how ridiculously cute you are dancing? Because you are. A few weeks ago, during your bedtime routine, I started noticing that when I would sing the little songs I sing with you every night, you would sort of wag your upper body from side to side, like a person tied to a chair might do while trying to loosen the ropes. I thought maybe you were protesting your impending bedtime, or developing some kind of a tic. It never occurred to me that you might be developing rhythm and dancing. But over the next few days, the wiggling got more pronounced and started to involve a lot of head movements (a la Stevie Wonder) and arm waving and I soon realized that you were getting down with your bad self.

This month, you have continued your self agency. In various fits of this self agency you have fallen off the bed, slipped backwards in the sink during your bath, and conked your head on the tile floor, a wall and the pantry door, leaving two little scrapes and bruises on your forehead.

This is not exactly making me feel like Mother of the Year. But I am told by people who ought to know that you have to start understanding gravity at some point, and this is how it happens. I wish it didn't have to involve so much falling down, but I actually think that is harder for me than it is for you. You pretty much recover if I offer you a graham cracker, whereas it takes me an hour to get my blood pressure back down after one of your tumbles. Maybe I should try one of those graham crackers.

You really are the highlight of my life. Every night, after I put you to bed, I love to sit and think about funny things you've done, and how much you're learning, and how quickly you're growing. You'll be one year old in two short months, which seems impossible, and if I had my way, you'd spend at least a few months being this age. But I know that isn't how it works. What a shame.

I love you,
Mommy