It's a Good Thing He's Cute

So...

This Bear turned 10 months on January 3rd, and decided to celebrate by copping a toddler attitude.

Yep. Though, technically, I guess toddlers are supposed to be walking in order to be deemed as such, I think the 'tude has a lot more to do with it than gross motor milestones.

Now, littlest man has always had strong opinions (I have NO idea where he gets that ;) but these days he wields his cuteness as a weapon.  Like the time I told him repeatedly to stop trying to knock a picture off the wall: he just looked at me with those big blue eyes, flashed a lopsided grin, reached a fat hand out, and pulled the picture.  Like any good disciplinarian, I cooed, "No, Teddy," and that booger shook his head at me.  This went on awhile until I held his hand and pulled it away from the picture.  When I let it go, he shook his head and grabbed my hand, doing the same thing to me that I had done to him.

And then I laughed.  

Which is why my children are heathens.

I remember that I once compared dressing 2-year-old Will for church
to trying to put a bobcat into a potato sack.  
That's what it's like trying to get Tedder into anything besides the bathtub.

Future nudist, this one.

One thing I'm looking forward to in the toddler stage: toddler dancing.  There's nothing like a little guy shakin' his diaper-clad groove thang.  

So, what went on in month 10?  

Nothing much, besides his first Christmas and first New Year.

After a disastrous attempt to let T enjoy the soulful stylings of our church's various choirs and handbell teams(?), he yukked it up in the nursery for the remainder of Christmas Eve service.

Favorite Christmas gift: the salad spinner (fun for the whole family!)

Highlights: Teddy touched the Elves, and nobody cried on Santa's lap! (So disappointing).

Everybody hated the overnight French toast casserole I made for Christmas morning. (Shocker).

Only Teddy broke an ornament, but all three kids attempted to knock down the tree.

I still can't, for the life of me, get an entire meal ready to eat all at once.

Few things rattle a third child.  I mean, c'mon, they get passed off to anyone with a pulse, there's no such thing as "babyproofing", and nobody bats an eyelash when big brother gives him a busted lip.  Nonetheless,  the Teddy Bear is decidedly spooked by sneezes, beards, and sparklers.  In that order.

Stats:

Month 10 also showed growth in Teddy's, uh, growth.  My nugget made it into the 8th percentile for weight, the 40th percentile for height, and the 50th percentile in head circumference.
So, our son is, in essence, shaped like a Q-tip.  

One thing I'm wrestling with is the hair cut.  Homeslice is rocking the sheepdog bangs/mullet combo a la Norman Reedus, but every time I get the scissors out to give him a trim, I find some reason why I can't do it. Even though the tiny baby stage isn't necessarily my favorite, haircuts are a rite of passage signalling the end of something fleeting.  Owing to precious baby ringlets on both Sarah and Will, I got to postpone their first haircuts until well into the second year.  This current little sheepdog has nary a kink to break up his stick-straight locks, so mama's gonna have to put on her big-girl pants pretty soon or risk having Teddy mistaken for a girl.

Which could happen, since he wears big sister's clothes sometimes. #thirdchildproblems

Language:

Teddy said his first word this month.  In his own deadpan way, it is completely fitting.  Wanna know what it is?  "Uh-oh!"  (Insert surprise pregnancy joke here.)  He also says, "Da-da" on occasion, and, one time, ONE TIME, he said, "Ma-ma."  Not surprisingly, he babbles all the time and knows EXACTLY what we're saying to him and about him.

Turn-ons: breaking stuff; breaking Sarah and Will's stuff; taking all of the clothes out of drawers and laundry baskets; removing every item from every cabinet within reach; wrestling pants (I don't know); pulling up on stuff; taking baths till he's pruney; tearing up toilet paper; and eating 3 times as much as his siblings.

Turn-offs: being told "No"; getting out of the bath; shoes; clothes; diaper cream; donuts (we're running a DNA test about this one); yogurt; and hats.

We finally, FINALLY have a child who truly eats what we're eating.  The best part? He LOVES bbq.  I KNEW all those pulled pork sandwiches I craved when I was pregnant would pay off!

Health-wise, Teddy has reached the 4-ear-infection threshold, so we are going to the ENT and demanding tubes.  Well, not demanding.  But making a good case for them and being really politely persistent.  

He's a sweetheart now, but I can already tell we're in for it later.  

The way he just sits back and watches big sis and bro... 

I just know he's analyzing their attacks and probing us for weaknesses.