11 months

Our son is officially a toddler. The transition from baby to toddler was subtle--like when you're outside playing ball and then someone flips on the court lights and you realize the afternoon slipped into evening, and holy crap, it's almost dark out.

Jesse is 11 months, and toddling. He took his first official steps on Oma and Opa's anniversary (which made up for us forgetting) moving from the table to the couch. Then he had to get from the couch to the stairs, and a couple toddles later, he basically had the hang of it. I was a little bugged that he never walked to me. As a kid I remember trying desperately to get my brother Matt to walk to me. My mom had the "camcorder" out as I sat there calling, clapping, yelling, and then crying as Matt walked to my pain in the ass brother Dave, who, I should add, could have cared less.

From the moment Jesse discovered he could balance on two legs, he became a crawl snob. He's over the crawl. He adamantly does his walking without help, and beats my hand away if I so much as try to hold his. I would have liked to have been more involved with this milestone, if only to soothe my childhood memories of baby rejection, but I really did nothing to coach him along. On top of full time toddling, Jesse got his first hair cut today. Technically that's not true-- we've trimmed it here and there, to keep the hobo look at bay, but every attempt has failed as he stubbornly muscled us out of it. But not today. I sat him in his highchair, gave him a chew toy (is that what they're called?) and snipped off his entire mullet. An ordeal worth my while. It's bad enough that he's almost a year old and has never worn shoes-- I couldn't just let a mullet happen.

Mulletless, toddling, and saying 'Ma-ma', I have resolved to quit calling Jesse a baby. He also is learning to kiss with his mouth closed, taking my clothes out of the laundry for me, and navigating his chubby butt around the house with my laundry basket, complete with reversing, re-routing, and unloading. Yes. Chores are on the horizon.

So we have moved out of the in-laws house, and have been living in our new home for one week. It was such a blessing to be able to live and learn at the Harskamps, and let them get to know their little grandkid. But, we were feeling a nudge in this direction, and it has been good.

The house is fully furnished and a gift from God, because I'm not sure when we will ever again have the luxury of living in a place without landlords above, below, or beside us , which has been the case of our living situation all of our married life thus far. It's liberating.

We are enjoying it-- the place came baby proofed (done by the preceding renter family) and my job is a whole lot easier. I no longer have to chase Jesse away from stairs or out of cat bowls or out of garbage cans and cupboards. There are no stairs, there is no cat, and the cupboards came with rubber bands.

God has been good to us. We have been praying that things might fall into place, and that those 'things' might fall in order. God listens, and He gives, and we are humbled by this more and more. We have been blessed with steady work, a new vehicle to get to work, and now a house to make home. We've crawled for a time, but now that we are up on our feet-- I marvel at the subtlety of each transition, and the Hand that's lead us here.