Jacoby is Eleven Months Old!

This past month has brought so many changes, and you are quickly morphing from a baby to a toddler.  

Walking is your primary mode of transportation now, and I haven't seen you crawling around for almost a month.  You also run, and you aren't ready for it.  You can run for about twenty feet and then your big head gets ahead of your feet, and it ends in rug burn or a bruise somewhere on your head. 

You have met all of your milestones either ahead of schedule or on time.  We are so incredibly thankful you are healthy.  Sometimes I just look at you in awe of that fact that you are not only here with us, but that you are well.  

Holy cow are you a talker.  Oh my goodness gracious, are you a talker.  You  babble from the moment you open your eyes and you talk your way to sleep, and you even talk in your sleep.  While most of what comes from your mouth is baby-babble, you do communicate well for your age.  You are bossy, but I think we expected that considering you are the baby-son.  You know you have your brothers wrapped tightly around your finger and you boss them around constantly.   When you call for Jack-Jack, you always say it like you are mad.  "JACK-JACK!!" with a stern voice, and you are usually pointing a fat finger at him with your eyes all squinty and mad.  Jack always comes running, and gives in to whatever your current demand might be.  Usually you hand him a toy to play with, or you attack him because you LOVE to wrestle.  And Jack adores you.  Jack declared to me that the reason he is not mean any more is because "That little guy right there changed my life".  That's big business, I hope you grow up appreciating how much Jack has changed because of your little bossy self.  

You used to call Justice Bubba, but now you call him Justice.  He tries desperately to get you to call him Bubba or Bubbie, but you shake your head no at him and then say "Justice".  Poor Bubbie.  And if things aren't going your way, you will holler for your Didi (Shandi) until she comes running and saves you from whatever your problem is.  

You do love Justice so much.  He is a favorite snuggle buddy.  You two have taken lots of after-church naps together.

You also like to watch video's on Justice's phone.  You bring it to him and say "MICKEY!" so he will turn on Mickey Mouse Clubhouse videos.  Lucky for you that Justice is a good sport.

You also say cuppie, binkie, night-night, ball, thank you, no no no no no, etc.  Basic baby words.  It's so nice that you are older and can communicate, although you could be a little nicer about it.  If I could describe your communication skills in one word, it would be "bossy".

But you are so sweet.  You are happy.  Your Dad swears you are our only happy baby because we aren't dropping you off at daycare every morning.  Your Dad used to be so sad when we dropped Justice and Jack off in the morning.  They cried and cried, and threw in the desperate "PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME!" on the way out the door.  That used to ruin your Dad's day, and we are thankful to be in a place where we don't have to do that with you.

You still eat like a little bird.  Your Dad freaks out about your lack of appetite, but I'm actually thankful.   Justice's first pediatrician used to tell me that skinny babies are good babies, and "don't fall for the fat".  So I allow you and Jack to graze your way through the day, but since you don't eat much, you don't get to eat any junk.  Every morsel you put in your mouth is healthy and provides some sort of nutritional value.  Well, except that chocolate cake you had yesterday.  You said "NOM NOM NOM" through every bite of that.   I will REALLY be thankful to get you off of formula and switch you to cow's milk at the end of this month because geez do you drink some formula.  I keep thinking of all the delicious food I can put back on our grocery list since you won't be hogging up the grocery budget with your expensive formula. 

I tearfully made the switch from the beautiful baby smocked clothes to big-boy clothes this past weekend.  Since Dad so graciously (no, not graciously, that was a fight, lol.) sucked it up and let me dress you like a southern baby boy for the first year, I honored my end of the bargain and put the smocking away.  I sewed you some bow ties and bought you some dress clothes and wow do you look adorable.  I mean really.

I also cut your hair this past week.  You needed it.  Your Grandma always tells me it's bad luck to cut a baby's hair before their first birthday, but you had some serious rashy-patchy thing on your head and it was bad.  It looked like a cross between cradle cap and eczema, but I couldn't get to it with all that tragedy going on with your hair.  So I bit the bullet and trimmed it all up so I could treat the top of your scalp.  It looks healthy now, and your hair looks better.  Notice I did not say it looks good, poor little guy.  It's growing in unevenly, just like both of your brothers hair grew in.  But it will eventually get there, and by the looks of it, it will be a curly mess.

And just to be clear, you still sleep HORRIBLY.  We are going to take away your pacifier very soon.  By the time I write your one year birthday post, you will be pacifier free because I am convinced it is not helping you sleep.  So it has to go, I am so tired of putting it back in your mouth every hour.  It will be a long few nights getting you broken of your addiction, but it's got to happen.  You are killing me, dude.  I'm exhausted ALL the time.  

You still eat dog food, now you just eat it with a spoon.  You go to great lengths to eat it.  I can put it up, put it away, whatever.  Makes no difference, you get to it.  If it's out of reach you just wait until it's dinnertime for the dogs and then you make them share with you.  It's gross.  I remember my Mom had the same trouble with your Uncle Jake and cat food.  He climbed on top of the refrigerator to get to it one day and almost fell, so she said to heck with it and just let you eat it.  I'm at that point.  

The worst age ever is the age where you want to get on the field to play during the middle of a game.  You are there, already.  It's too soon.  You are toeing the line in this picture.  Every other minute you turn around to see if I'm looking.  And I'd better be looking because if I'm not, you are deep in the middle of the field.  

Jack is trying desperately to keep you off the field.  You are mad.  

 And, I will close with this.  You love to give kisses still.  And you are so bad at it, as I'm sure you can see by the horrified look on my face.  When your Daddy comes home from work, you run to him and he picks you up.  You give him kisses all over his face.  Lucky Daddy.  I would prefer you did not kiss me, like ever.  You now open your mouth and lick people when you kiss them.  You actually get so much slobber on people that it runs down their face.  After you got done showering me with your nasty kisses in this picture, I had to get a towel and actually wipe the slobber out from the inside of my shirt because it was running down my neck.  Oh, you are so gross little guy.  But thanks for the kisses.