Wednesday, February 18, 2009

10 Months


Dear Norah,

You're 10 months old! For some reason 10 months sounds waa-aaa-aaay older than 9 months. Like now you are on the verge of becoming a 1 year old, and what in the world am I going to do with a 1 year old? And I have to plan a 1 year old party! How do I do that? I have no idea.

A few days ago I was all weepy and mopey because you are getting older and more independent and it was making me sad for some reason. My baby is growing up and it just hit me and I wasn't really ready for it. So there I was, sad and mopey, and Jasmine told me, and I quote "You should turn off the...'holy hell my baby is growing' fountain and turn on the 'this is friggin' amazing I kept her alive this long-I am amazing' spout." To which I replied, "Ok ok ok, the growing fountain is all turned off. The my baby is awesome and wondrous fountain is back on."



Norah, Jasmine was so right, and I am so glad to have a friend to help keep me sane like that. Because you are awesome. You are so awesome. Sometimes when I watch you play, I am just amazed at how much you have changed and grown, and how stinking smart you are. Like today, you figured out how to open the door on your little toy barn and put the lid back on your Cheerio container. You learn more every single day and it is incredible to watch.



You have picked up the idea of "No!" very well. There are some things you know you aren't supposed to play with, like a lamp cord, but you try to anyway. You will slowly crawl over to the cord, and slowly reach out to touch it, looking back at me every few seconds. Then when you get close I say "Norah" with that ominous tone, and you pull your hand back. We go through this several times before you decide to move on with your life. But not all lessons are so easy to learn. Just yesterday you got into a battle of wills with your grandma over whether you could play with the lamp. She won. You cried. It was hard not to laugh at you, standing there at the table wearing nothing but a diaper. I could see how much you wanted to touch the lamp, but you know what "No" means and every time you tried you heard that word. Your little fists balled up and you cried, but you didn't touch the lamp. Good girl.

In the mornings you come and play in my bed while I lay there and wish we could sleep a little longer. I would say that out of all the mornings in your life, we have done this little ritual on 97% of them. When you wake up I make you a bottle and bring you to bed where you eat it. Then I try to trick myself into thinking you will go back to sleep, but you never do. So we lay in bed and play for a good 15-30 minutes, and Norah, it is my favorite time of day. You're so silly and hilarious and full of life. I love to listen to you jabber and yell and watch out for flying fists or feet. On mornings when you get especially silly your dad and I call you "Lunatic Baby" because that is exactly what you act like. You flop from one person to another, yelling and talking and laughing and punching who ever is unlucky enough to get their eyeballs in the way of your antics.

You have become and extraordinarily messy eater in the past month, Norah. You enjoy feeding yourself, but sometimes (ok alot of times) you miss your mouth and drop food on the floor or in your lap or down your shirt. Cleaning up after a meal always takes a long time. You also like to put food in your mouth and then take it out again. I don't know why you do this but most of the time it's not a big deal. Except when you eat yogurt. When you spit the yogurt back out so you can feel it with your fingers, it all spills down your chin and onto your belly and your legs and feet. And then you get a bath.



I know that parents always have big dreams for their children, dreams of sports stars and scholars and musicians. I am not immune to this impulse, and after what I witnessed today, I have solidified my future plans for you. I think you are going to be on Broadway. You have a clear ear for music. I am not making this up Norah, even though people may think I am-you can recognize songs after hearing them just once. You recognize them, and know when you hear them again. Amazing! You love to dance, mostly like a tiny little Elvis. And today we were listening to music from The Phantom of the Opera, My Fair Lady, and other musicals-you were transfixed. You sat in my lap, and stared at the computer screen, very still. I watched you, you have the music in your soul Little One!



Sweet baby, you are such a joy in my life. I am so impressed with the little baby that you are, and I am so excited to watch as you continue to grow and learn. You make my heart fill up with love and pride and awe. I love you, Turkey.

4 comments:

Silvy said...

she looks just like you!! i love it!

Jasmine said...

Very Sweet.

I need to get on this... I have some letters I need to write to Norah.

I just love her.


Thank you for her!

Jasmine said...

I think I understand that. Does that translate into: "I have a lot on my plate and God is busy with other things in my life."

Or... did it just mean that you've watched too many scary movies?

Audrey said...

I love that she loves musicals! I think she's secretly my kid. And I'll probably have a kid that hates music and wishes I would quit trying to force it on her. Really, you two are awesome! Love you!