December 2011, like November 2011 (and January 2012, for that matter), was a blur of packing, moving, working out renovation details, and other relocating activities. In the midst of all the mayhem, we had a wonderful Christmas with our boy and our families.
The main highlight of December was that Ford started walking just after Christmas. Ford breezed through the walking thing and was running by the New Year. And so was Mommy.
We also began the long process of weaning...Ford did not enjoy this milestone nearly as much, but nonetheless, it was time. I hadn't exactly planned to wean at 15 months, but my supply never really recovered after my surgery in late October, so Ford needed to transition to cow's milk. He loved cow's milk from day one -- he just wanted mommy milk too. He was brave through the transition though, and Dada was a hero. He had to help Ford through the roughest part: learning to fall asleep without nursing (I know, I'm a terrible mom for developing that habit), but after a few tough bedtimes, the worst was behind us. As Ford weaned, his eating and drinking really took off, and he took full advantage of his new dining prowess during the holidays.
Here are a few photos:
Guys, I'm excited about the wagon but don't expect cartwheels this early in the morning!
Okay, okay, it's great great GREAT! Are y'all happy now?
Now, please, let a boy rest. The holidays take a lot out of me.
You need some rest too, Daddy.
Merry Christmas from our family to yours!
Ford was ready for his breakfast.
Okay, Mama, I'll suffer through a photo shoot for you, but only because you gave me this awesome wagon.
Merry Christmas, Mama.
The whole Price clan. We finally got to meet Ford's precious new cousin -- Ava-Grace.
Uncle Timothy is AWESOME.
Aunt Liz and both her babies.
Keep pushing, Honey.
Enough. Hand over the camera, Mommy.
Precious family of three.
Ford LOVED baby Ava-Grace.
Mama, I never was that little. Impossible. I was always a big dude.
Ford and Dada.
Mama. I. Am. Eating. Back away.
You need to put the camera away and keep packing, anyway.
Baby in a box. Never gets old.
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