eleven months

Michael turned eleven months last week. It seems as though he’s grown in leaps and bounds over the past month. He’s incredibly talkative and vivacious, earnestly saying “yeah” or shaking his head, waving and saying “bye-bye” to Jake as he goes out to work, and trying his hardest to mimic whatever words we might be saying.

He’s very excited over the Christmas trees and shining lights. It’s been quite a task to keep him (and our cat Chai) from knocking over our little blue spruce. We plan to plant his first Christmas tree outside his window, so it can grow with him.

Michael is close to walking: he often takes a series of short steps to get to something (or someone) he wants. He still thinks crawling is more practical for getting from point A to point B, however.

Music remains Michael’s favorite thing: he now bobs up and down whenever he particularly loves a song, and nods his head in time to the beat (usually). He loves playing the Irish tin whistle with me and has learned how to blow into it. He also loves playing the piano beside me, and watching Uncle Jon play the organ and piano. Every time he hears Jake sing in church, he turns to watch and listen. Sometimes he even sings along.

He still fights naps and bedtime with an intense passion, afraid he’ll miss out on something exciting. I remind myself often that this willpower is a strength of his, and will be quite a force to be reckoned with when properly directed.

(But yes, I’m still tired and look forward to sleeping through the night again at some point).

On very short car trips he often chatters to me from his seat while I drive, and sings along to whatever we’re listening to. However, he hates being in his car seat with the same passion as nap time. When we arrive at our destination he’s usually elated to be out and about, but the journey there often puts all of us through purgatory.

He wasn’t quite sure about Saint Nicholas when he came to visit our church, but he still posed for a picture. Michael isn’t shy, but he’s quiet and will observe people he doesn’t know from the corner of his eye as he plays. He’s got quite the doubtful stare — I swear, he copied all his expressions from his father.