We’ve had a rough week. You may be walking and trying really hard to talk, but at the heart of, well, you’re still a baby. My little ten month old.
You’ve been so clingy I’ve been feeling quite frustrated by it. Flattered at first, but now a little tired. I can’t leave the room or you’ll break down crying a bitter, heartfelt cry. If Daddy tries to take you, it’s tears, screams and writhing until I come to you. If Daddy tries to put you down to sleep, you cry as if your little heart is breaking. Separation anxiety? Perhaps, but heaven knows it’s causing me anxiety too.
It hasn’t been bad all month though. We drove to Croatia from London and back in the first three weeks and you were a star. True to form you weren’t keen on the car seat, but we made do with stops along the way, and distracting you with toys and songs. For the camping you were a star too. I think tiring you out with swimming and playing outside the tent helped a lot.
Your walking has improved massively, and you totally love it. When I put you down to walk you take off at a slow run, so long as I give you at least one finger to hold. If I pick you up before you’re tired you scream and cry and writhe till I put you down again. It’s a little embarrassing sometimes, how loud you can scream, but it’s hard to explain why you shouldn’t when your walking is better than your talking.
Speaking of which, you say Daddeee a lot and short stoccato mama sounds as well as ba-by. I’m sure it’s just me wishing you were saying real words, but it really seems like you know which one to use at which time. You’ll crawl to where Daddy is working and say Daddeee, or follow me down the passage way going mama! With a real accent on the last ‘ma’. And last week I was encouraging you to crawl down the passage to me, when you stopped in your tracks, sat down, looked at me and went Ba-bee. I’m sure you were trying to tell me to cut you some slack.
You hold full conversations with us now. Your face tells the tale of whatever you’re trying to say â€“ you have a serious face and a stern voice. It makes us laugh. You’re so cute.
Your observation skills are also pretty impressive: I pasted a series of Winnie the Pooh characters on the wall around your play area, more because I thought it was cute than because I thought you would enjoy it. You sat down, looked up, stood up and running your hand over the sticker, promptly began chatting to Christopher Robin!
I am so aware of how much you have changed and grown, as well as how advanced you are. You have the physical ability of a toddler but not the mental understanding yet. I know it will come soon. I know that it won’t be long until you are no longer my baby girl.
So although you’re driving me crazy with your refusal to sleep without me, crying every time I walk out of the room and the occasional screaming for /shouting at me, I am still awed by your beauty, your life and liveliness and how you just take everything in.
Your whole being is a miracle, how you were formed, created, birthed, and how you have adapted to our world over the last ten months.
I love you baby girl.