Dear Liam,
You're walking! Cheeky boy--I knew you would be. Three days before Christmas, you let go of the coffee table and planted that foot and stepped. And then you fell down hard. Ooof. Then you did it again. Then you took a two week hiatus from taking another step. All over the holidays I kept telling people that you have stepped, and then you set about to make me look like an overzealous fibber. I'd stand you up. You'd sit back down. I'd stand you up again, and you would lean forward and freefall, forcing us to grab you to avoid spectacular episodes of sobbing.
You're way more into food that you can eat yourself, and you've learned how to get it. You can now sign to eat, and you sign it A LOT. Especially if you catch sight of a banana. Or Cheerios. Or peanut butter. Signing is beginning to come in handy. This month, you've picked up EAT, MORE, BALL, and THANK YOU. Since all you could sign last month was LIGHT, it's a relief to finally have a bit of variety.
Of course, you're also terribly proud of yourself for talking. You're so happy to see me and have a reason to yell MAMA! Your father was not amused that MAMA came first. So for weeks, he walked around with you whispering DADDY in your ear. The result? DADA was your next work, but you would only whisper it for weeks. On Christmas day, Gigi finally got it that when you yelled OW, you were saying MEOW, which was totally neat because I never told you to call the cats MEOWS. I told you that they were KITTIES, but you must like their noise better, because OWS they are. OWS are also what you call small dogs that you can't yet distinguish from cats. And while we're talking about language, you also say HI. And something that sounds like GAO GAO GAO, but I have no clue what you mean.
One day last week, you came home from daycare. Daddy and I were both home with you. We played with you until dinnertime. You were your normal, happy, active self. I made you dinner, put you in your high chair, and you refused to take a bite. You shook your head no, then you performed the most spectacular vomiting episode I have ever witnessed. It was surreal in how long it lasted, nor could we figure out how so much stuff could have fitted in your little baby belly. Because apparently you hadn't digested anything all day. Diced grapes came back up, and cheerios and massive amounts of fluid. I was a little frightened. But once it was all over, the only frightening thing was tackling the cleanup. Ew.
This month was topped by the festival of Liam's First Christmas. You were AWEsome. It was so much fun to tell you all about what nut jobs are in your family. We were all ridiculously excited to give you presents, and watch you open the presents that Santa left for you. Note: You've got quite a market share for such a little guy. My goodness.
You sort-of figured out how to open things. And you were impressed with Christmas trees and cookies. We had such a blast watching you figure out your toys, but the poor doggies at Grandpa and Gigi's house were beside themselves. No one told them that bright fuzzy things that squeaked and rattled were not necessarily always dog toys.
But mostly, you just thought we had all lost our minds.
On Christmas Day, after all the presents were opened and appreciated, we took you outside for a holiday sledding event. I think you had fun. We sure did. You and Aunt Lulu sledded up and down, and you thought that having someone pull you around in the snow was pretty cool.
Then we made a snowman and ate snow.
Then you got cranky and we went inside. Later, after dinner, you and I packed up and headed to meet Daddy at the resort he works at. We had a special suite to make up for the fact that he had to work part of Christmas Day. We got room service and played with your toys. By the time you fell asleep, all I could do was think about how much fun you were, and how Christmases are just going to keep getting better.
Next month you'll be turning a year old. I mean good god, child, how can it already have been a whole year?? My life has been changed completely, and every day is overflowing with all the remarkable things that you do, and say, and see. You are the best thing ever, and I can say that as your totally impartial (and adoring) mother. I love you. I love you. I love you.
Did you know that I love you?
Love,
your Mama
