11 Months

Yesterday I held Ella and we danced in the kitchen. I swooped and swayed and held her close to my chest, and she nuzzled in just the way she should. As it was happening, I thought to myself, very consciously, "Remember this. It will probably never happen again so perfectly."

And I was right. I tried again this morning, and she squirmed and squeezed out of my arms like a wild animal. At 11 months, she's no longer a snugly, cuddly baby. She's a squirmy, twisty, curious big-but-not-quite-toddler baby. She climbs on things, she opens things, and today, she tried to plug her night-light into the solitary electrical outlet in our whole home that does not have a cover. I have to be with her all. the. time.

But the bonus of being with her all the time is those fantastic moments where I see her discover something for the first time, see the moment where some idea or concept really clicks for the first time. This morning, the plug and the electrical outlet was one of those moments. She knew the plug went in there because she sees me plugging it in every night, and unplugging it every morning.

(And yes, even though I can be a lax mother at moments, I moved the night-light to an un-pluggable spot, and put a cover on that electrical outlet.)