A late post, in a new place–typically I post monthly updates on the boys’ Xanga sites, but with Xanga likely about to disappear forever, they’ll be posted here from now on.
Clive turned eleven months right towards the end of a four-day-long deep cleaning and packing spree as I prepared our house and family for a month out-of-town. I uploaded his pictures with the full intent of posting his update after we reached our destination. I didn’t plan on spending the day trying to find out if I had broken my foot or not.
But we are here, my foot isn’t broken (though I can’t use it at all), and Littlest Muse’s post is only a few days late. All’s well that ends well, right?
Clive turned eleven months on the 30th.
It’s hard to believe he’s almost a year.
It’s also hard to believe he’s not mobile yet, either–though he is excellent and the “semi-backwards butt scoot”.
I say it’s hard to believe mostly because Remy crawled at 10.5 months, but he is of the sort of personality that wasn’t exactly given to perseverance. He would see something he wanted and, once he realized he couldn’t reach it, he would give up and content himself with something else that was attainable.
Not Clive. Clive sees what he wants, then reaches and reaches and reaches until he ends up face down on the floor, then he straightens up and wails when he realizes he can’t get to it. Nothing else will do. At least now he can sort of butt-scoot himself backwards until he gets to it.
He’s also discovered he can reach much further if he swings one leg out behind him while he’s leaning. I imagine it won’t be long.
He has a sweet little baby mullet that I adore. Unfortunately, it means he is now also frequently mistaken for a girl. I am not ready to cut it, yet, though.
His jabbering became much more purposeful this month. There’s probably a complete sentence on some such philosophical topic hidden within that baby jargon. I imagine he’s impatiently waiting for the day that we finally learn Clive-Tongue so that we can talk about Deep Things.
He is not really keen on food, but he generally likes the opposite of what Remy likes. Salty, vinegary, peppery things. And meat.
He and The Cat still share a special bond. She makes a beeline for him anytime that Brother isn’t around.
Though, I am not sure how much longer that will go on.
Now that he’s been with us almost a year, I have spent a lot of time reminiscing over our time with him and mulling over how to describe him. Because he’s not as expressive as Remy, some may think from his pictures that he’s laid back.
He’s…not.
Tenacious, introspective, sensitive, deliberate, unwavering, unapologetic–that is my Clive. He doesn’t really babble endlessly, but he looks right at you and says something. He eats until he’s not interested anymore (usually about 5-10 bites in) and then…good luck getting him to continue. When he is pleased, he is very, very pleased. And when he isn’t, he ISN’T.
Perfectly himself; perfectly perfect.
Leave a Reply