December 2009 - Recap

Well, there it went! Your last month as a zero-year-old.

Up until December, you had always seemed too busy to be interested in books. You liked chewing on them, of course. But to actually sit still for more than two seconds while we read to you? Fuhgeddaboudit. So I guess you had 11 months of reading that you simply HAD to accomplish before you turned one, because you have turned into a veritable reading machine. Well, let me rephrase that. Daddy and I have turned into veritable reading machines; and you have turned into a fairly decent listener. All you want to do is have us read to you ... except you haven't yet learned what proper reading protocol is. We'll read the first page or two from a book, then you'll take from our hands the book we were just reading to you and you'll hand it back to us with a pleading look in your eyes that says "Please oh PLEASE read this to me ... please??" Um, okay? So we'll start over, and maybe you'll let us get to page three, but then you'll take the book from our hands again and give it back to us again. And then other times we'll be reading one book, then you'll pick up another book and hand it to us. And you also want us to read the same book over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again. It's actually fairly exhausting. But the fact that you want to be read to thrills us!

Here are the books that you want to read all day, every day:

Your third tooth popped through this month and I can tell that your 4th one isn't too far behind. I've held off from feeding you certain 'real' foods because your severe lack of teeth, but for the most part, I'm feeding you whatever I'm eating. And, thank the Lord, you are a fantastic eater. But as much as you like these new foods, nothing - and I mean nothing - will ever be as tasty to you as Cheerios are. If Cheerios could change your diaper and produce milk, you would have no use for me.

We started you on a big-girl cup this month. You still prefer your handled sippy cup, but you've transitioned to the handle-less cup really well. I think your complete adoration for water may have helped. You love water. You haven't had any fruit juice yet, and I'm trying to hold off as long as I can for that. I figure if you love water and most fruits, then you don't need the sugar from fruit juice.

Baths are still on the top of the List of Things Natalie Hates. There are times when we think you've had a breakthrough and might actually be enjoying your bath ... but those times are few and far between. Even if you're not crying while you're in the tub, you always burst into tears when we have to rinse the soap off you. And trying to rinse the shampoo out of your hair? Let's just say that Daddy and I now have the speed of a NASCAR pit crew. Where most children cry when you take them out of the tub, you, my dear sweet girl, immediately cheer up when we do it. As soon as we've bundled you up in a towel, you're all smiles.

You're a good eater, you take two naps during the day, and you sleep between 11 and 12 hours a night ... so if you hate taking a bath, it's okay. It's something that only lasts about 5 minutes - I can deal with that.

You got your first freckle this month! Daddy has a few freckles ... and me? I'm a gigantic walking freckle. So it was only a matter of time before you got your first one. It's on your neck, under your right ear. Hopefully you'll love your freckles ... I got a sign from one of my best friends in elementary school that said "A Girl Without Freckles is Like a Night Sky Without Stars". Truer words were never said.

This month, you've started leaning in for kisses. And let me tell you, kiddo - even if you tried to do something cuter than that, I don't think you could. Daddy will say "Nattie, give Daddy a kiss!" And you'll lean in, with either your cheek, your forehead, or your mouth. It's awesome. It's amazing how one little motion can bring two adults to dissolve into a fit of giggles.

You're a peekaboo expert. You play peekaboo with your bib at every meal. And you've started playing it with your shirts. As hard as I try to not laugh, I can't help it. It's hysterical. Which, of course, just eggs you on. Which, of course, means that I had to walk through Office Max with you while you lifted your shirt up for everyone you passed. Which, of course, means that the 17-year-old male employees at Office Max were all blushing furiously. Which, of course, means that I had my shortest trip to Office Max in Suze history.

You love your socks. You love your socks so much that you don't want them to be relegated to your feet. You want them in your hands, or, better yet, in your mouth. The only way I can keep socks on your feet is to put your shoes on. Because if you just have socks on, you immediately pull them off (and often times, you lose your balance and fall over in the process - it's way funny). You crawl around the house, holding your trusty socks firmly in your fists.

Speaking of crawling, you're quite the expert crawler. You haven't really shown much interest in walking yet. Sometimes we'll see you standing by yourself and you look like you're thinking about maybe taking a step, but then you plop to the ground. I'm in no rush, really. Take your time, my little love.

In fact, take your time on everything. This year has gone by so quickly, but watching you do things in your own time and in your own way has reminded me to slow down. To not be in any rush for you to grow up. To not be in any rush for you to not need me anymore. I pray that in some ways, you'll always need me.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy