Soon after, my own sister gave me a couple more books, the well-known "What to Expect When You're Expecting" and "What to Expect the First Year," neither of which I ever read. My favorite book I read during my pregnancy was "You'll Lose the Baby Weight (And Other Lies about Pregnancy and Childbirth)" by Dawn Meehan. I recommend it for all pregnant women; but I'd read it before the baby starts putting too much pressure on your bladder.
Now if I could just remember where I was going with all this...
Oh, right... Well I've dug all these books out again. NOT FOR ME! Geez, I almost broke my keyboard trying to make that clear enough. I am giving these books away to Taylor's sister. But I couldn't just give them away without at least flipping through them again, right?
Well, out of the 30 names I'd underlined in the baby names book, you'll be pleased to know that NONE of them were "Jordan." I have no idea how we picked that name... ;) I did underline his middle name at least!
And, here are a few things that "What to Expect the First Year" says that little Jordan should be doing in his twelfth month (which he'll be in for another 6 days):
By the end of this month, your baby
...should be able to:
-Walk holding on to furniture. Check! He can do this!!
...will probably be able to:
-play patty-cake (clap hands) or wave bye-bye. He loves patty-cake. I'm pretty sure he thinks he's clapping for himself because we always shout "Yay Jordan!" He can also wave... like at 2 in the morning at GiGi's house, waving at the ceiling fan and telling it bye-bye. Seriously.
-drink from a cup independently. Like a sippy cup?? Because there's no way I'm giving him a cup without a lid on it. No way.
-pick up a tiny object neatly with tips of thumb and forefinger. HA! Fuzz laughed at Jordan once because he was doing this and said it looked "dainty." It's a skill, Dad!!
-stand alone momentarily. He can stand for a long time, while holding a basketball, or pooping. Yeah...
-say dada or mama discriminately. I think we ALL know he can say DADA. He can say mama too, but he only does it when he's pretending like he's going to die if "mama" doesn't come rescue him from his crib!
-say one word other than mama or dada. I don't think he can do this yet. When he says "bye bye" it sounds and awful lot like "dada." Imagine that.
...may possibly be able to:
-indicate wants in ways other than crying. He can do this too. Instead of crying, he throws things, too! "I don't want to eat my breakfast, so I'm throwing it all in the floor. You're welcome, Mom."
-"play ball" (roll ball back to you). He does this with his favorite basketball. Sometimes he holds it over his head and drops it on himself. Fun times
-stand alone well. Check!
-use immature jargoning. Yes.. he talks all the time. We'll just look at him and say, "Oh yeah? Is that right?" and he'll just keep going like we really know what he's talking about.
-walk well (3 out of 4 babies don't walk until well into 13 1/2 months, and may not until considerably later). As of a few days ago, he can walk! Not well, granted, but he can do it! Now everyone say, "Yay Jordan!!" and clap like a baby would.
...may even be able to:
-say three words or more other than mama or dada. Like I said, everything sounds a lot like "Dada" if you ask me...
-respond to a one-step command without gestures. HA! Really? Some babies do that? He responds really well to me saying, "No." He looks at me and starts laughing like I told a funny knock-knock joke, and then continues doing what he's not suppose to be doing. Just like his dad.
So there you have it, our baby is advanced beyond all recognition. HAHA Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating just a teeny bit. But going through these books makes me remember the joys of pregnancy: The little flutters I first felt around 18 weeks. Seeing his little heart beating for the first time. Finding out he was a boy. Picking out his name. Feeling his butt crammed into my rib cage. Going to the bathroom 20 times each night. Throwing up every morning, and afternoon, and evening. Finding out he had flipped flopped and that was no longer his butt in my rib cage but his head (which I had been poking at furiously for days, poor kid). Throwing up my breakfast on the day we found out we were having a c-section, also known as his birthday. The best memory of all was when I first told Fuzz we were having a baby and he lost ALL color from his face and then immediately rushed to Walmart to buy 4 more pregnancy tests.
Can you believe that some people actually go through this more than ONCE?
