10 Months

Today, Lauren, you are 10 months old. I don't see the same baby that I did 9 months ago, or 9 weeks ago, or even 9 days ago. You change so quickly, and I am amazed.

Right now you are playing amidst a rambling pile of toys and cheerios. Yes, I let you eat cheerios off the floor. Mostly because you've eaten worse things off the floor, and done so with a smile on your sweet little face. Partly because you get mad when you're left in your high chair while I attempt a quick blog post.

You are the sweetest baby I've ever met. I'll grant you that all babies are sweet in an innocent and fresh sort of way, but your disposition is sweet. Whenever you scoot around a corner and spy the face of a loved one, you break out in a smile wider than I though possible for such a new person to have. You immediately begin 'talking' to me when I come to rescue you from your crib in the morning, even if you had been fussy the moment before. No grudges from you, my sweet sweet girl.

There are times when I look at you and wonder, Where did you come from? Whose child are you? For, while I distinctly remember you being born of my body, you are quite a mystery to me. These thoughts pop up when I start noticing little personality traits that you are developing as you grow. I realize that I will begin to really know you more and more as the months fly by, and I am excited. Scared to trade your baby-ness in for toddler-ness, but excited nevertheless to know you better.

What I know so far? You are so smart. You have knowledge hidden behind those blue eyes that you just haven't yet found ways to express. I get the feeling when you look at me that you are wiser than I know, and when you are grown, will repeat back to me your memories of this time.

You love to find two fingers that are willing to walk you around the house. You are ticklish on every part of your tiny body. Your sister effortlessly makes you laugh. You pull yourself across the floor like you are swimming on solid ground. You know that the remote controls the TV, and will wave it around in that general direction, watching expectantly for the flashing lights to begin. You love to imitate our actions: waving, blinking, clapping, dancing, giggling, grunting, speaking. Your first words - bye bye - happened this month. When a song starts playing, you beebop your little self to the rhythm.




You hate getting just a little bit of attention, and then being left alone. You love your sister more than any other person or object. But you love your 'Brown Bear, Brown Bear' book almost as much. You look at my face when I read certain words in books, and will start laughing if I repeat those words often enough while you watch my mouth move. 'Star,' 'Baby,' and 'Purple Cat' are your gut-busting favorites. You will hold heartfelt, emotional conversations with your fluffy pink lamb, and kiss it's face for several minutes without distraction. You give freely of your kisses, and your baby's breath is intoxicating.


You don't like pureed baby food - it's not a hateful dislike, you simply appear bored and superior in it's presence - and would rather eat cooked veggies if given the opportunity. You are beginning to be afraid when I leave you now. My heart breaks for you to know fear. You are beginning to covet your sister's toys and snacks. My heart cowers in anticipation of future disputes.


You are beginning to grow up. Have already begun. Are already grown.



My heart swells.