Eleven!

We're doing the whole new-month-with-no-pictures thing again because, well, because I'm lazy. And also? Doing the new month posts in two parts raises my post count for the month and makes me feel like I'm actually keeping up with this blog when, in fact, I'm only posting maybe one-third as much as I used to.

So. Luke is eleven months old. And I'm pretty sure the world is going to end in the next 30 days because I cannot imagine having a one-year-old. Cannot. Imagine. It. I mean, he was just born, right? Like two days ago? And now, all of a sudden, he's eleven months old? Come onnnnnn.

As the months passed and all of his (younger) friends started growing teeth, I was pretty much convinced that he'd be the only kid in kindergarten with a toothless grin. Of course, he proved me wrong, as he likes to do because he woke up this morning with...a TOOTH! Or at least a sharp, jagged white thing that looks like it might, with a lot of work, someday become a tooth. But see, here's the thing. I've been expecting him to go through all the awfulness of teething, right? And every time he's had a rough night or a runny nose or whatever, McMoose and I have dutifully spent a couple of days checking his mouth, and of course, the only thing in there up until now has been a lot of slobber. And then, this morning, he laughed about something with his mouth wide open and there it was. Just sitting there. No fanfare. No warning. No grumpiness the day (or night) before. And after listening to my friends' tales of woe surrounding this whole tooth-growing thing, I am just so grateful. (Dear Luke: Please continue to grow ALL of your teeth this way. Please, please, please!)

He has also been taking a few unassisted steps here and there this month. I wouldn't say he's walking yet, but he is considering the possibility. For now, of course, crawling is a much faster way to get from Here to There, especially when There is where the dog food or trash can is.

He's working on learning the fine art of sharing. By which I mean that when Other Baby is here, he holds out a toy to him. And then, if Other Baby ignores him (which he usually does), Luke proceeds to take the toy and try to beat Other Baby with it. So, um, we're working on it.

Oh, and let's talk about baby-proofing for a second, shall we? I mean, are there actually kids in this world whose nefarious plans are foiled by these baby-proofing devices? Because if there are, those kids should stay far, far away from my kid, who will probably corrupt them for life. We used to have edge protectors to protect Luke's head from meeting the sharp corners of bookshelves and entertainment centers. Until he figured out (a) how to pull off said edge protectors and (b) how to eat the tape that was supposed to hold them in place. So now, we have edge protectors lying strewn about the apartment and the baby has eaten a lot of double-sided tape. He also pulls the socket protectors out of the sockets. And then chews on them. So not only do they NOT protect him from getting shocked but they have now actually turned into perfectly sized choking hazards. AWESOME.

So that's been our month. Lots of crawling, lots of eating, lots of getting into stuff that shouldn't be gotten into. And now? Now, I'm going to go call the park district about renting a space for Luke's--shudder, shudder, shiver, shudder--first birthday party. Ack!