We have a little morning ritual here at the Osborn house. Naomi wakes me up, some time after 6 and before 7:30. I make Jared get up and go change her diaper while I use the bathroom. Then I go back to bed, and when they are done, Jared brings Naomi in for her morning nurse and playtime in bed while Daddy showers. I can usually find enough weird little treasures on my end table to occupy her for those fifteen minutes. It’s quiet, it’s fun, and I thank God every day for this season of having just one child.
We’ve been sick all week over here, staying home and taking care of each other as we all take it in turns to come down with some nasty cold/flu thing. So I’d a bit lost track of the dates. You can imagine my shock, then, when yesterday after getting Naomi up Jared came trooping in with the “eleven-month-old baby!”
Eleven is a scary number, of course, because it’s the one before twelve. My little Nomey-bear is about to turn one year old. I’m not so much filled with nostalgia for days when she was smaller, or regret for the days having gone by too fast… Smaller means more difficult, when it comes to this kid, and I’ve intentionally enjoyed every one of her days of littleness as much as I could. And she becomes more fun every day as she learns new things. I’m more just in shock that this much time has succeeded in passing.
I didn’t get a lot of smiling pictures of Naomi this month; more pictures in motion, since that’s most of what she does. The sandwich bags of beads I keep in my sewing box used to keep her occupied for half an hour, between shaking and sucking and giggling. Now she has explored all of their properties in two minutes flat, and I have to keep a close eye in case she tears open that bag in the flash of an eye and sends emerald- and pearl-colored choking hazards flying across the carpet.
Naomi is pulling up on everything these days, from bathtub to coffee table to couch to spinning wheel. She doesn’t really cruise, so much as execute a search for something to throw on the ground. One of her favorite activities is pulling up on her bookshelf and throwing all her books on the ground until she finds one she wants to look at.
She found a stack of coasters, and threw it on the ground!
[If you don’t know that reference, youtube those five italicized words. PG-13ish warning.]
She still first explores a new thing by tasting it. She still loves to eat paper. Her syllables are becoming more versatile, including the occasional hard “ta” or “pa.” She seems to know what “Dada” means. She is finally signing for milk, though she might be confusing it with waving goodbye. We have to work on our reinforcement!
Her new favorite thing to do in the whole world is stick out her tongue. She does it to say hello, to say goodbye, to stop crying, to get your attention, anything! Thus, we have discovered that pretty much any song can be improved with a few raspberries.
My funny bean. Full of joy for mama and daddy, even when we all feel like crapsickles and you have a pitiful little cough. We will make it through this and many other adventures together.