Whoa, can’t believe my bunso is two months shy of turning a year old. This time last year, I was probably heaving and puffing while making my preggy way to and from the house, to the office, to the mall, to the church, scared shit that I would bleed as I was wont to experience for the duration of the pregnancy.
Now, Maxine is here, strong as a horse, and as likot as a spinning top. Happy tenth month, my darling babe! You are so a hundredfold more active than your sister was at the same age. With Mischa, we could leave her on the bed, for example, for a minute to get something across the room. But with you, two seconds alone could get you into so much trouble. No wonder you always seem to be bumping your head on the wall, or on your crib. You must be the girl incarnate of the son we were dreaming about. Ate was more finesse than you. But we love you both so, so, so much. You can now sit on your own coming from an all-fours position. And you’re beginning to reach up and stand on your playpen, although you’re still wobbly for the most part. The days when we could still restrain you are probably numbered. Soon, we would be running after you. And Mommy has to make herself fitter than she is now.
Mommy couldn’t get enough hugs and kisses from you both!