Month 7 or, Up to 11

Dear Miriam,

We don't know entirely why, but this month you got loud.  You're loud when you're happy and playing.  You're loud when you're unhappy and crying.  You're loud when you're tired.  You're even loud when you're sleeping.  Several times I've gotten up at night thinking you wanted to nurse and found you still asleep, making noise.  Even when you're not shouting, you're smacking things with your hands.  We've gotten you playing with the turtle drum so you can even make more noise.

You're crawling quite well now.  You'll follow us from room to room (complaining that we won't just pick you up) and you're Miriam-on-the-spot when someone's playing with something or handling something that you think looks interesting.  Corbin's started using the phrase, "She's messing with my stuff!" which I will probably hear for the next million years.

You're still pulling up on everything, including us.  The other day you trapped me in the kitchen, in between the stove and the sink, by attaching yourself to my legs.  You've also almost managed to crawl up onto my back when I'm sitting on the floor.  You've gained weight, too, of course, which is a constant reminder that I need to get back to lifting weights.

We keep expecting to see a tooth poking through.  You chew on everything and drool like a constant small waterfall.  Sometimes I can't tell the difference between you've drooled all over yourself and you've spilled the dog's water dish all over yourself.

I've been trying to make some good fall food for you: acorn and butternut squashes, sweet potatoes, applesauce.  You seem to like things when they're added to your oatmeal cereal, but you're not too sure about them on their own.  I wish I had more time to cook in general.  I hate to think that you and your brother will end up in conversations with your college friends that go, "What do you mean, you've never eaten fish?!"  And then you'll have to tell them that your mother fed you the same 7 meals your entire life and that's why you keep asking them what their plans are for Christmas break.

Love,
Mom

PS: Sorry for the lack of photos this month, sweetheart.  Think of it as quality over quantity.