motherhood, parenting

So the bubs is 11 months old today. In one month she’ll be graduating to toddlerhood. A couple of days ago, the hubs and I dug out some old videos of Ariel when she was only a few months old and she looked so different. Still super cute, but different. Her hair was shorter, her movements were not as fluid, and she was still limited to mere coos and tiny beatings with her hand. Now, man, she can walk (pretty fast when she’s excited), talk (even though she is still limited to mama and baba, she can respond back in her baby language when we speak to her) and eat bits of our “adult” dinner. Recently, whenever she is up before me (the hubs would take her out from the crib) she would run to my side of the bed (she knows which one it is!) and yell into my ear. That’s my drill surgeon right there. Sometimes, she would let me have a little more sleep by waiting patiently in her crib until she hears me rustle and then she would spring up.

Oh! And when she was 10 months old, she learned to wrap her arms around my legs. It never gets old.