Holy crap.  Seriously: CRAP.  You’re HOW old?  Are you KIDDING me?  How did I sleep through ten months?

Oh.  Right.  You grew while we all were sleeping.

Ten months.  It’s weird that your Aunt Ronda asked about your first birthday party a few days ago, and the thought almost made me laugh.  MY baby?  I’d snort.  MY baby is NOT turning one year old.

Oh, but, yeah, he sorta is.  Soon, even.

Let’s see.  What’s new with you?

Right.  With the growing thing again.  Look at you, all forward-facing and stuff.  Honestly, this is one of my favorite things about you: for DAYS after we converted your seats, you would giggle any time we went anywhere.  You never got jaded with the new view outside of your window.  We should all be so content.

And HAPPY!  My Lord, child.. when you are well, you are the happiest baby on the face of the planet.  You love to laugh, talk, sing, gargle, dance, jump, and anything else that may draw attention your way.  Always smiling, always laughing.. it is such a joy to wake up to you every morning.

Unless you are sick.

When are you sick, MY GOD, you become a demon baby.  And it is so heartbreaking because we know this is not how you are, and you know what?  We want to make you feel better.  Also: we want to put you on a doorstep of someone else.  Just until you’re better.

Quite frankly, I blame this lack of good behavior on that rat pack of juvies you run around with.  They are no good scum, is what they are. (Although they are quite squooshy and loveable.)

Your love for your brother knows no boundaries.  Even when you are sick and miserable, the only thing that will guarantee a laugh is the presence of your big brother. 

And you SO want to be like him.

But, from time to time, you like to be a man’s man with your dad:

And all of that’s fine.  Because when you’re sick and tired and angry and upset and all of that, you know what word you learned and perfected?

Mama.