Special K

It's about time I did a Klive update. Slacker that I am, I used this blog as an excuse to not make him a real baby book like I did for his sisters. Now he's knocking on the one-year-old door and I haven't posted about him since winter. Shame on me. I'll do my best to fill in the blanks so he doesn't need therapy when he's older.

At 11 and a half months, Klive (Special K) is my lovin' boy. Unlike my girls, he has been in no hurry to grow up. He likes being a baby - being held, snuggled, and rocked while I feed him a bottle. He curls up tightly in my arms and strokes my face while I sing him little songs about how much I love him. He also likes to be packed around everywhere I go - including excursions to the bathroom. Those I could do without.

We can already tell he's going to be brainy. Just look a the toys he chooses to play with. He notices everything and likes to crane his neck into back dives just so he won't miss a thing going on around him. He stares intently - especially at faces. He can keep a strait face for quite a while, even when people are cooing and smiling at him. Sometimes he stares you down, then shuts his eyes for a good five seconds. When they pop open, he gives you his famous eyeball roll. I'm not sure if he's showing off, or trying to tell you that you are annoying him. He's aloof. He's cool like that.

We assume he's teething because he chews on everything. He devours toys like a shark thrashing them from side to side while he gnaws angrily. But for some reason, we can find no sign of a tooth in his sharky mouth. Looks like he's a late bloomer in that department too.

This toy may have been a little too large to really whip around.

He started to crawl on the 4th of July. Don't most babies crawl at 6 or 7 months? Well, not this Slowpoke - 11 months, baby. He had no desire to make a move on his own for months and months. And when he did need to get from A to B, usually to make a mad dash for an outlet, he used an alligator death roll or the good ol' army leg drag. I think he always had the crawl in his back pocket. He just wanted to toy with us for as long as he could.

He's always been a good sleeper. As long as he has his "gully-gully." That's his blanket friend.

Eating always wears him out. Many a power nap has been taken in that eatin' chair after wolfing down a fruit and veggie pouch with a side of mini-marshmallows.

But talk about a sweet little wake-up face. He thinks he's a pretty funny guy when he stands in his crib, squeaks the bars, turns on his music player, scream-sings and forces his sisters out of their peaceful slumber in the morning. They reprimand him with a "No-No, Klive!!!" but he just smiles and shakes his head "No" right back at them while he keep up the morning groove.

He's a Momma's boy. I've always wanted one of those.

But Daddy's his best buddy. They even have matching hair cuts. All day long, whether Kolby's home or not, he blabs away (with a thick Oklahoma drawl) "Hi Dadda." He waves too.

If there's anything that makes him want to transition from baby to kid, it's these two chicas. He's FINALLY starting to notice how much chaotic fun is going on around him, and he wants in. The only problem is, what do you do when you have two mischievous sisters with boxes full of girly toys?

You play the part of Ken at the beach and make visits to the beauty parlor . . .

you suffer in silence while you model the latest baby doll dress-up . . .

and you practice fairy ballet while you clean the tea-party dishes in the kitchen-ally.

What can I say - He's captured all of our hearts.