ten months old

my sweet ramona bean,

this photo series pretty much sums you up right now: always on the move.

you, my friend, are the light of my life. you shine with energy, charisma, and curiosity. you are a mover and a groover; persistent, strong, determined. you took a slow motion side roll off the front steps today and i was really impressed with your recovery — even with the bloody gums you got. it didn’t seem to faze you and you still are intent on mastering those steps. or gravity. you are tough.

yesterday we went to a new playground and i sat you down on the edge of the sandy play area. it didn’t take you two seconds to figure out you wanted to explore. you were away from my side in a heartbeat and crawled right toward the group of older kids playing. then you made your way to the bottom of the slide and stood there, playing with and eating sand and talking to whoever would listen. i came to get you only when it looked like a bigger child was going to come tearing down the slide. your independence, your fearlessness, astound me.

your noises are becoming more and more varied and pronounced. there’s a sound you make that sounds like “otto” and you use it correctly. sometimes. but we’re still giving you time to figure out what you really want to say.

you discovered dancing. whenever i turn on a record you bounce your body to the music. you do the same for the silly songs i sing you. sometimes the only way i can get your attention is by singing about a spider or a peanut and then you’ll look at me and beam and bounce and clap your hands. you clap and shake and wave and–my favorite–give kisses when asked. it’s amazing.

food finally makes sense to you. pickle spears, yogurt, spicy salsa, eggs, beans, guacamole, vinegar chips, anything really except for fruit. you eat it and seem to enjoy it. it appears this correlates with the appearance of your two top teeth. they give you a little more mastery over the food now that you can chomp it up instead of just gumming it. i love to watch you eat.

papa and you have developed (and continue to develop) an extremely special relationship. he receives the biggest smile from you when he gets home or whenever he walks into the room. you love when he flips you around and roughhouses with you. and he’s the only one that can get you to do that really big laugh of yours. he is the best papa ever. you and i are lucky ladies.

i celebrated my first mothers day this month. you honored it by peeing on my head first thing in the morning (note to self: velcro diapers only have so many uses in them before you can expect to wake up to find your baby standing up against the head of your bed with her diaper half off, pee flowing on your face and pillow). what a riot. that day i held you close and whispered in your ear many times, “thank you for making me a mother.” we really were meant for each other, all three of us.

i love ramona. oh yes, i do. i love ramona. oh yes, it’s true. when you’re not with me i’m blue. oh ramona, i love you.

i love you. love, mama.

*see ramona at other months: nine, seven, five, three, one, birth.*