Dear Ingrid,

You are 10 months old! I don’t know how that happened, each month sneaks up on me and races by, and I’m in a constant state of amazement whenever I look at you.

This month, books continued to enthrall you. You have a bin full of board books under our coffee table, and a bin full of toys, and you consistently go for the books first. You especially love books with flaps, and you open each one on each page. We’ve even had to repair your very favorite book, "Where is baby’s belly button?" because you got a little too eager with "Behind the Cup!"  You’ve discovered a haunted house board book that daddy got you at halloween, where each page has many, many flaps, and you like that one second best. And in some books, you get annoyed when a picture of a door doesn’t  turn out to be a flap. 

When we read to you, and there’s a cat in the book, you look for our cat. "Bear at Home" has a black and white kitty on each page, and when we say "where’s the kitty?" you look for FatKitty, and when we say "where’s the kitty in the book?" you point at the one on the page. It really blows our mind, how fast your brain is growing.

You started to wave this month, and in the car on our way to Portland, I could see you, seeing me, between our mirrors (vanity & carseat) and if I waved, you’d wave back.

You’ve been teething and still have a cough, and a fever had you home from daycare for a few days. I spent the first day with you, and Daddy spent the second, and it was your first day all alone with Daddy, ever. You both had a good time — while you’re sort of a crankenmonster with the teeth, you do well with distraction, and your trip with Daddy to the grocery store garnered lots of comments, I hear. You also went to the park for a (very windy) first swing of the year.

Your daycare teachers continue to comment on your sparkling personality, how you love books (there, too!) and love to dance. You love to eat your puffs, and you loooooove avocado, and now, bits of string cheese. When mama gets a string cheese from the fridge, you and the cat both vibrate with excitement. You also had your first ever Scholastic Book Club order form, which mama dutifully filled out and returned, of course.

You’re still not interested in crawling, something about looking at the floor being the most boring, awful form of torture, ever. But you pivot with ease now, and have a reach my former yoga instructor would revel in in terms of flexibility. You can dig your heels in and pull the bins out from the coffee table (Must! GET! BOOKS!) and if we stand you against a table (or, at daycare against the mirror) you will happily balance there (with supervision) for a while.  While you’re not into attempting to crawl, you are into attempting to levitate, and when you want to be Someplace Else, you will wave your little arms in the air and kick your feet, just hoping to fly to your next destination. 

You are growing so fast, your cheeks are starting to deflate and thin out, your body is starting to become more proportionate, and your brain is clearly growing at a rapid pace. I now understand why people are so fond of babies, because babyhood is such a flash, it’s like watching a train race by, trying to read the details on each boxcar. Just as you’ve read one, two have passed, and it’s impossible to keep up. Babies turn so quickly to toddlers, and then to kids, and this time is so sweet and fast, that everyone wants to try to catch a glimpse.

I’m so lucky to have so many glimpses, each day.

I love you, Ingrid.

Love, Mama