13 Months!

It was so easy to document things as you went before you were 1. First tooth on this date, first genuine smile on this date. I thought walking was going to be {insert date here} and tadaa, you were officially walking.

That is not the case for this first-time mommy.

You took a few steps here and there before your first birthday. You were probably about 11 1/2 months old. But it was only a few steps. Some steps to dad, some steps away from the couch after you pulled yourself up. Walking all the way across the room pushing Mr. Lion in front of you.

I thought for sure you were going to "take off." That was not the case. Then your first birthday rolled around - more standing on your own, a few more steps. Reports from the babysitter said you were walking more and more each day. We did not see that at home - why? Because I believe in a firm difference between "walking" and "taking steps." To me, your mommy, you were still just taking steps.

And then it was more and more bravery. All of a sudden, you were taking steps across your room, which amounted to about 10, uneasy, mostly-forward steps. So does that constitute walking? I am a black and white, draw the line type of gal. This was a hard one for me!

Just recently, you've started taking even more steps - more measured, more careful, more consistent steps. But does that mean you're walking?

Now that it's reached more of a consistency, yes, I guess you could say you are walking. And then it was like someone knocked me over with a feather.

You're walking. Holy crap! Where did my projectile-pooping, hiccuping baby boy go? The one I swaddled and we let sleep on the ottoman for his naps. All of a sudden, you're able to ask for your "mom mom mom" and your "dada." Now you can say "achoo!" when I sneeze (which is adorable!) which you have been saying for ages and came out like "hets." Until one day I actually sneezed, and you said it, clear as day. You can say "hi dada" and "papa." Those b's are hard to come by, so we're working on "ball." You're getting there with "baba" but no singular "ba" so this black-and-white mama isn't buying it. We'll get there, though.

You love the outdoors. So much so that when we get home, you go right for the sliding glass door. So much so that you will stand against the front door and try with all your might to get the handle to come down just far enough to open it. And again, knock me over with a feather - you know how doors work.

You know that if you yank down hard enough on the toilet handle, you can flush the toilet, which is hilarious to watch because as soon as I am in the bathroom upstairs, you are right there, ready to flush it for me.

You can feed yourself, and well. You have figured out what you like, and what you don't like. You can hit. As in, tonight you slapped me across the face, which then led you to discover "time out."

You are down to one nap a day, which makes for one tired mommy. BUT, it's a good nap, and you're always in such a great mood after you wake up - both in the mornings and the afternoons.

You don't suck your thumb or need a pacifier - THANK GOD. I remember once watching a four-year-old cry for her "paci." Ugh. We can hold conversations with each other. I love "talking" with you, which includes a lot of grown-up words on my end, and a lot of babble on yours. But it works.

You sleep like the dead. You sleep through your dad's nail gun, you sleep through thunderstorms, and you sleep through just about anything that might be happening outside your bedroom window. You love sleep.

Tonight, in one of your crabby crying stages of the evening, I tried to put you in my lap and rock you. And you're too big. That about broke my heart - my little man is truly turning into my little man. A walking, talking, smiling, laughing, silly little man.

I love being a "mom mom mom."