Dear Hen,
Yesterday you turned 14 months. In the last week or so, you've really lost your baby-ness, and I think you're officially a little boy. On vacation your hair bleached out so you're officially a toe head, along with your father. You are just too cute for me to handle.
You've started dropping your morning nap a little. If you're in a good mood I'll let you stay up. But if you're crabby, you get all the naps, including the 5 o'clock one like yesterday. I can't blame you for being a little crank this week. We're trying to detox you from the last 12 days with your grandparents.
Your new best friend is the stairs. All you want to do climb them. Its heart attack material, I'm telling you. When you're around stairs, you lean to them, like you want them to pick you up. So, I throw you a bone and let you climb them once, but then you want to go again, and again. I think its good eye/hand coordination training, so I support this need of yours. Anything to nurture your baseball career.
Speaking of careers, you saw your first hockey stick and puck this weekend. I promptly took it away from you, and gave you the stearn "no", and replaced it with the baseball bat. The other mother's thought I was nuts, but just trust me on this one. You're showing signs that football might be the ticket. You love to head butt on purpose, and you push back when we're crawling head to head on the floor. You're even learning to growl. My little Warren Sapp.
Firsts that I've seen you do that floor me: wipe your mouth with a napkin, say Mama in the correct context, point at what you want, say ball, know what, where, and who the doggie is, make up your own dance moves that we've named "The Jolly Rancher", stand alone for a few seconds, wave, blow kisses, there's probably more but I can't keep track. Its happening way too fast.
Thank you for the best month yet Boogie, I can't wait to see what you have in store for next month.
Loves, Mama