11 Months of Boy Fabulousness...

Going... 

Going...

Gone! 

Sister trying to help keep him still!

Eleven months!  Good gracious, he's so big.  All boy and an absolute mess.  

And BIG.  

Did I mention he's big?

Although, his weight doesn't prove it.  He's still just 22 pounds.  How is that?  I didn't measure his length.  That would require him to be still and that only happens when he's asleep.  No way I'm risking waking him up to measure his length.  

It has been a rather big (ha, ha) month for him developmentally as well.  Let me tell you, this little guy is so stinkin' smart.  He's always been observant and now we see him putting those observations to work. He's opening and closing things much better.  Taking rings off and putting them back on.  Climbing all over the place.  Eating like he's starving.  

And walking.

Not all the time, but he's figuring out if he tries to run, he falls.  So he's slowing it down and walking.  

No doubt he is understanding what we are saying.  If I ask him to show me what he's got, as in the case of him pulling paper out of Chris' backpack, he will bring it over to me.  He may not let go of it when he gets to me, but he brings it nonetheless.  He's even given me a hug when I ask for one.  

Snugglebug.

Although, he's also very needy and clingy.  That could be because of the two additional teeth he grew.  He seems to sense when I'm near even if he hasn't seen me.  Maybe he can smell me, I don't know.  At church yesterday, he started trying to climb the door and crying before he even saw me.  I was in line and couldn't see him but he knew I was there.  There have been far fewer days when he's played on his own apart from me.  He is keenly aware of when I leave and that I am out of his sight.  

Fortunately or unfortunately, he has also become pretty aware of Aubrey Kate's moods and punishment.  If she has to go to her room for some prime Naughty Dog time, she screams bloody murder.  He then screams too.  If she's getting tickled and screaming with joy (or telling Daddy, "Nooooo!"), he starts crying.  Full on bottom lip stuck out, scared crying.  If she goes into her room to play by herself, he'll bang on the door and cry.

He adores his sister.  And hates to be without her.  I wish I could get a picture of the way he looks at her.  It is pure adoration in his face.  I tell her all the time he will be her best friend and will be a part of her life forever.  So far, she doesn't believe me.  Much.  

As for his diet, he's pretty much hungry all the time.  He's still, largely, eating six bottles a day.  Plus he eats with us for three meals a day.  We've tried chicken, ham, shredded cheese, pears, apples, bananas, Cheerios, french fries (don't judge), Puffs, rice, corn, carrots, green beans and a wide variety of the squeezable foods.  He's finally figured out how to hold the packet and suck out the food.  Apple sauce was apparently tempting enough for him figure it out.  

Still no go with the sippy cup.  However, he has started holding his own bottle.  I know, I know.  I could have forced that a long time ago but I kinda dig the snuggle time.  But he's gotten ridiculously squirmy during diaper changes so I've started changing them with a bottle.  He'll eat peacefully while I change him.  

It's either that or let him fall off the changing table six times a day.  And yes, I've tried the floor.  The chair.  The couch.  Doesn't matter.  He wants to move.  Feeding works.  And his bottom is clean.  Win-win.

Homeboy, without a doubt, keeps me on my toes.  He's scaled the couch.  Climbed into the dishwasher.  Played splash in the toilet.  Taken off up the stairs (someone left the gate open.  Names omitted to protect the innocent.  Or guilty.).  Pulled all the towels out of the bathroom cabinet.  Eaten trash out of the trashcan (thankfully only the sandwich from lunch about 10 minutes before).   Chowed down on some sidewalk chalk.  Learned out to suck the meat of the grape and spit the skin back out.  

There are days...y'all...when I think, I am straight up too old to have a boy.  Really.  

Thankfully, God believes we can handle it.  But heavens, I am bone tire somedays.  

However, believe me, Rhys is worth every ounce of exhaustion.  He is our Mighty Man of God.  I tell him all the time, he's gonna change the world.  I believe that.  As his personality develops more and more, I believe it more and more too.  He's determined, ridiculously smart, observant, curious, loving and has a rather healthy temper.  All attributes which will serve him well as a man.

As long as we survive being a fearless boy.

Enjoy this month's pictures!  He kills me with his cuteness.  Eat. Him. Up.

What?  This is wrong?

Baby brother seat in the Wal-mart bathroom.  Brilliant!  

Wrong way but I'm loving making a mess.

Yes, yes, that is the TOP of the couch.

Hey Momma!

I love the tunnel.  Love.  It.  

Seriously.  Heartbreaker.

Yummy chalk!

All those apples were, at one time, in my mouth.

The Beatles tribute band concert and I was the cutest thing there.

Trash can food is also yummy!