Rainwater Tribe: Scott, Sarah, David Scott, Drew, and Maggie: 12 Months...

David Scott,
As of the 18th, you are officially a year old. No longer are you a "baby" by definition, but rather, you are a toddler. In 29 years, you will be the age that Daddy is now...and will still be my baby...at 30 years old. :)

I say it every month, but you are learning and changing more and more each day. Currently, you are:

29.5 inches tall
23 pounds
wearing size 12 month clothes, with some 18 month items thrown in for good measure.
wearing size 3 diapers. Still waiting til you're a little heavier before going to the size 4s.
wearing size 3 and 4 shoes. We need to get you more shoes -- preferably ones with rubber toes b/c you've nearly worn out the shoes you have with your crawling everywhere, but I'm hoping that is about to change b/c you are...
taking up to 10 steps at a time. Auntie Boo took it on as her personal mission to have you walking before she left last weekend. Sometimes we have to coax them out of you and sometimes you'll walk unprovoked. I'm not sure at which point we say "you're walking."
still on formula, but that's about to change as we will be making the switch to cow's milk over the next week or so. You actually had your first taste of real milk with your birthday cake last weekend. You were indifferent towards it.
you are expanding your vocabulary rapidly. Last weekend you started saying ball and Boo. Of course you're still saying Mama, Dada, Lola, bottle (ba ba), who's/what's that (s'at), hey, bye, and thank you (da chu).
you love opening and closing cabinets, doors, and drawers, and turning the light switch on and off.
you still love Lola. The feeling is still not mutual, but I'm hopeful that will change.

On the night of your birthday, Daddy and I told you your birth story...during dinner. You were more impressed with your cheesy chicken spaghetti than the events surrounding your birth. Later that night, as we were all playing in your room, you bonked your mouth on a toy and it started bleeding. It stopped within a minute or two but it was still scary.

I would have posted this earlier but I got side-tracked last night as I was typing it on my iPhone. You were bathing and decided to take a nice poop in the bathtub. That involved quickly rinsing you off, and running with you to the other bathroom to re-rinse and finish your bath in the absence of feces.
Fun times. Pooping in the bathtub or not (which I prefer), I love you anyway!

Mama

P.S. For my records, I caught you eating Lola's dog food earlier today. Somehow you've figured out how to open the plastic container we keep it in and you were chowing down. :)