It is really hard for me to say this. Oliver is 11 months old today. It makes me want to cry. I just don’t understand how this happened. The last 11 months have just been a blur that felt more like 12 minutes. Time can slow down now please.
Because this is the best. I mean, THE best. 11 month olds= awesome. And Oliver = the awesomest of them all.
He stands now, for long periods of time. Does squats like he owns a gym. He’s taking one step fairly regularly (and even took 2 once!) I don’t know when he’ll walk and I don’t care. He’s just so dang cute I can barely take it.
He throws things. Like balls. He thinks that’s the best. He also throws most toys. And a lot of food. He thinks throwing stuff is FUHnny. And it is when he does it. All of us just laugh at him and tell him how adorable he is pretty much no matter what he does. Because he is. (Except for right now while Neil looks very angrily over his very expensive and now busted ipod….)
He still mostly says only dadadadaaa but sometimes says “dis!” or “dat!” while he’s pointing at things. I love that.
He climbed all the way up the stairs the other day! (I know, not the hugest feat for an 11 month old, but he was really scared of those stairs!). Seth said, “Now I love Oliver soooo much!” after he did that. (I’m not sure why stair climbing was a condition of receiving Seth’s love, but….)
His teeth are so random and cute. I’ll be sad when his mouth is all full of regular teeth and now half-coming-in teeth. See how cute?
Enough said. Oliver is 11 months old today, and we love him very very much. Now please, stop growing.