Eleven months

Can you believe it? I sure can’t.

Our little man has become a social butterfly in the past month. He’s always enjoyed people — watching them, interacting with them. But now it seems he’s discovered the spotlight, and he can’t get enough. He puts on quite a show for random people who talk to him when we’re out. He bats his long lashes and grins and turns his head into my shoulder pretending to be shy. It’s all an act, though. This boy loves the attention.

He’s developed some separation anxiety in the past month or two that was adorable at first, but now drives me mostly crazy. I used to love when he’d crawl into my lap, grip my shirt, and rest his head on my shoulder. Now it can be frustrating when I need to get something done, and he won’t let me out of reach.

There was a time when I could scatter toys on the floor in his bedroom and get some work done while he happily played by himself. Not anymore. He grips onto me tight when he feels like I’m going to set him down, and he spends our once happy playtime standing up next to the chair in his room demanding that I pick him up. Only he doesn’t want me to hold him, not really, because once he’s back in my lap, he’s squirming and grabbing restlessly at everything in reach. So that’s the game we play. Pick him up, put him down, pick him up, put him down. It’s enough to drive me bonkers.

He’s learned his first meaningful word — Dada, of course. Never mind the lady who carried him for 9 months, gave birth to him, tends to his needs 24 hours a day. When his father walks through the door in the late afternoon, he grins widely, looks him in the eyes, and says clear as day, “Dada.” Of course, I try to tip the scales in my favor by saying “Mama, mama, mama” to him throughout the day. Instead of saying it back, he looks me square in the face and says defiantly, “DADA!” And then he grins like he knows exactly what he’s doing. Thanks, kid. I’m pretty sure he’s going to grow up calling me, “Hey, you,” because he refuses to give me the satisfaction of hearing the word mama.

His growth has picked up quite a bit this month, thankfully. I don’t know if he hit a growth spurt or what, but it seemed like I put him to bed one night, and the next day he was huge. There’s something about the way he stands up so straight sometimes, or the way his long legs dangle from his high chair or the stroller, or the way his chubby cheeks have thinned out a little and his face has elongated. He looks at me now with understanding and comprehension that wasn’t there before. The transformation isn’t quite complete, but I see a little less baby and a little more big kid in him every day.

He’s still not quite able to balance well enough to stand on his own. I’m convinced he can do it, but he just doesn’t know it yet. We’ve caught him standing unsupported a few times, engrossed in a tall toy or something he’s picked up off the floor as he stands on his own an inch or so from whatever he pulled up onto. As soon as he realizes he’s not holding on to anything, though, he plops his butt right back onto the floor.

“Walking” is his new favorite game, and he giggles wildly when we hold his hands and let him take steps. He’s mastered the back-and-forth stepping motion of his feet, and once he gets the balance part down, he’ll take off pretty quickly on his own. Right now he sort of staggers back and forth like he’s had one too many cocktails as we help him move across the floor.

As he becomes more and more expressive, we’re experiencing one of the greatest joys of parenting so far — reliving all the most wonderful parts of childhood through his eyes. I thought he’d be too young to enjoy Halloween this year, but he proved us wrong early in the month by having a blast trick-or-treating at the zoo. He didn’t have his costume yet, but that didn’t stop him from interacting with the people in costume and enjoying all the fun sets they created.

He’s developing his own interests and an honest-to-goodness sense of humor, and it’s the most amazing thing to watch. It seems trite to say, but viewing the world through the eyes of a child really does make everything that much brighter, more joyous, more wondrous. These days something as simple as a day at the park seems incredible. The sight of a box of Cheerios is enough to make him squeal and bounce with excitement. The dog just existing is the most hilarious thing he’s ever seen. He has reminded me just how magical the simplest things can be. For the first time since I was a kid, I feel giddy when I think about Christmas morning.

We visited my family for an early Halloween celebration last week. We hadn’t seen my sister and her kids since July, and when I saw my 4-year-old nephew’s reaction to Judah, I was struck by how much he’s changed in such a short time. Judah crawled purposefully across the floor, climbed right onto the hearth, and pulled himself up to stand next to the fireplace. My nephew’s eyes nearly popped out of his head, and he looked at me in shock. “Aunt Kiki! Baby Judah is walking!” he said, as if he couldn’t believe it. As if someone should really stop him, because he has no business standing up that way, he’s just a baby. I understand the feeling. I’ve watched the changes in him every day for the past 11 months, and I’m just as shocked sometimes.

But he’s not walking, not quite yet. He loves the way the world looks from two feet, but he still needs us to guide him along the way and help keep him on his feet. It’s a wonderful metaphor for parenting, I think. I’m happy to hold his hands a little longer until he’s ready to walk on his own.

Related posts:

1. Six months
2. Seven months
3. Eight months
4. Nine months
5. Ten months

Tagged as: judah, Life, Photos