One month and then the next

These dates sort of sneak up on me, one month and then the next, and I just don’t even know where to begin. So much happens.

At ten months, one of your favorite things to do is throw things.  You throw food from the highchair tray, balls at your brother, wet toys out of the tub.  Which is interesting because you've just learned how to put things in.  You have a plastic purple funnel and an oversize green foam dice, and you put that dice in that funnel over and over - in, look up for approval, smile, dump, repeat.

You are really interested in balls. Rolling, throwing, bouncing, catching.  The back of your head sticks out a little and Daddy says it's your cerebellum and it's enormous and that whys you're already so good at catching and throwing.  He's apparently got high hopes for your athleticism  No pressure though, big guy, no pressure.  Promise.

You get really mad.  There's that stereotype about redheads being feisty or fiery or something.  When you don't get what you want you wave your arms wildly and you hit and scream and cry.  I should capitalize for effect: WILDLY HIT and SCREAM.  Oh my.  You are feisty or fiery.  Or something.

You're gathering sounds and taking some for a spin.  You're not officially walking, just as you're not officially talking, but we're pretty close to giving you credit for both.  We've counted at least five steps, and we think we've heard you say dada and mama and all done.  And you totally make the right noise when we ask you what pigs say.

So big, Tollie.  You are loved so big.
Mama