My dear child, how did you get to be 11 months old so fast? I suppose it actually has been that long since I was enormous, uncomfortable and telling you it was about time to think about vacating the premises, but it has truly flown by.
You are rather clingy, not wanting to be held by just anyone. You'll smile from your mother's arms, but given the chance to be held by others, you let the world know that, like Bartleby the Scrivener, you prefer not to. Usually, I don't mind, though there are times when I wouldn't mind being able to pass you over to someone else. Fortunately, you do let one of your big sisters carry you, even if you seem impossibly big in her arms, which is odd because...
Like your just older brother, you have embraced skinny shrimpiness to the point of worrying the doctor a bit, but also like your brother, there is nothing lethargic or slow about you. You crawl, cruise, babble, smile, and show acute annoyance when your siblings or parents cross you.
So now it's only one month until your birthday. I suppose cake and presents are in order, but what my child does one give a fifth child, whose older brothers and sisters already own every toy known to man?