Owen Henry — 11 Months Old
Owen Henry, you are a sweet boy filled with smiles. I’ve said it too many times, but this growing up thing is bittersweet. I’ve noticed this last growth spurt — your legs are getting longer, feet and hands bigger and you no long fit easily under the dinning room table. But you are still my little baby; I rock you to sleep while singing Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star. I feed you, huddled in close. I smile with pride at each milestone.
Fine-motor: You can stack wooden blocks — three or four blocks on top of each other with the sole goal to knock them down. You can stack rings in the correct order according to their size. You try to manipulate toys or everyday items—lids on containers—or stand two figurines next to each other in imitation of Eva’s pretend play.
Talking!: Mama. Dada, book, ball and more. Og for dog, which you excitedly like to point out whenever you see one. But ball would have to be your favourite word. The other morning you woke up and repeatedly said ball until we found one and brought it back to bed. It was 3am.
Climbing!: You climb everything—stairs, onto the second floor of Eva’s dolls house, in and out of baskets. You love to climb into your big, red plastic car and close the door behind you.
Walking: You’re almost walking independently! You walking around with pride and determination while holding onto our hands. If you are distracted and concentrating on something else, you’ll walk just holding onto one hand. If you are really distracted you can stand on your own for about 10 seconds without holding onto anything.
Books! You have your favourites. You point and ask for more. You roar at the lion in Dear Zoo, anticipate the tickle when you see the monkey, wave bye bye to the baby in Baby Loves Peekaboo, kiss the mirror at the end of Peek-a-who.
Bath time! Any time of the day is a good time for bath. You love the shower and if there is running water to be heard, you come scurrying along!
Your Daddy. Much more so than Eva at the same age, you are a Daddy’s boy. As soon as he comes home from work, you are in his arms. In the morning as he tries to leave for work, you demand to picked up and then hold on to him as tightly as you can, hoping to go with him. But at night you only want to be comforted by your mummy.