In your eleventh month, you seem to have hit the accelerator on this whole growth thing. You are sprouting teeth faster than I can keep up with, and you've mastered the fine art of sitting up from lying down. You're such a pro that suddenly we've started to find you like this when we check in on you during naps:
There was a week or so when you'd gotten the hang of sitting up, but you weren't quite sure how to get back down, so you'd get stuck sitting. Which displeased you. A lot. But after some time and a bit of practice, you got the hang of it. So for all I know you sneak out your bedroom window, joyride in my car, and then come back and lie back down before I come check on you during naps now.
Valentine's Day was this month, and for that grand occasion you made your very first work of art -- fingerpainted hearts! We foolishly picked an evening when you were already grumpy (see teeth, above) to spring this new activity on you, so you weren't really into it. But we managed to get some lovely artwork to share with family and friends, and I'm pretty sure the marks you made were with red fingerpaint, not the blood of your enemies -- which on that night was us.
After several months of having crusty eyes, we took you to an eye doctor who told us you needed minor surgery to open up clogged tear ducts -- a condition many babies are born with and only some grow out of without a little help. It was outpatient surgery, one we were assured was "easy," "quick," "routine," etc., even though it required a general anesthetic. But ohhhh, Nora. Taking you back to a hospital was something we hoped never to have to do. You handled it like a champ. Mom and Dad? We were complete wrecks. When a kindly old hospital volunteer summoned us from the waiting room afterward so we could be reunited with you, we very nearly knocked him down because we wanted to run ahead and be with you. When he opened the doors to the recovery area for us, we were met with a blast of your screams. Apparently, you were NOT impressed by several nurses' attempts to calm you down when you woke up among strangers. But once you recovered from that fit of anger, you were back to normal instantly. Except "normal" no longer involves crusty eyes or matted eyelashes, so the surgery was a success. And if I never see the inside of that hospital (the one where you were born!) again, all the better.
You had lots of visitors this month, including some people your own size. Heidi and Evan flew down from NYC with Miss Eva, just two months older than you. And you gals hit it off. It wasn't long at all before you two were getting in trouble together. Exhibit A:
You got into the paper recycling bin. And the stack of unread magazines on the coffee table. And you decided things that were in the bin and on the table were much more fun spread on the floor. Wheeee!
You also got a visit from Aunt Liz and Uncle Josh, and your cousins John Dominic and Frances, the latter of whom you were meeting for the first time.
Here, too, I foresee trouble. Don't ask me why.
Mama and Daddy