At this time last year, I was almost 34 weeks pregnant. I blogged about how miserably tired I was because I couldn’t sleep. You routinely threw midnight dance parties in my tummy and that caused me to wake up pretty often.
This year, you are 11 months old. Where has the time gone? You’re crawling every where, including up the stairs. You follow us into the kitchen whenever you feel like we’ve been out of your direct line of sight for too long.
On Saturday night, tooth number eight popped through. It was a rough night. We had family photos taken, and you cried most of the way home. After a round of Tylenol, teething tablets, and some orajel, Pop finally got you to bed a little after 9 p.m. You were back up at 11:30. When it became clear you weren’t going to go back to sleep any time soon, Mommy decided to bring you downstairs and we hung out on the couch for a while. I can’t lie, baby, it was tough listening to you cry at me for half an hour. I did everything I could do again, then pulled out a teething ring. You were calmer when you chewed on that, but it wasn’t until around 12:30 you finally cried yourself out and fell back to sleep.
Baby boy, I would have taken your pain away if there was a way to do it.
You’re such a happy baby. Your personality has really come through in the past few weeks. You love, love, love your big brother so much. Your smile lights up a room. You’re a lot quicker to smile at people you don’t know now. And you’re just as big a ham as your brother when it comes to pictures now.
Happy 11 months, Little Bear. I can’t wait to see what the next month of your life brings us.