At eleven months, you are seriously on the move. The scoot-crawl has turned into a real crawl, the crib is now a jungle gym, and the world is yours to toddle around - provided you have a ledge, a human, a walker, or a table nearby to help you out.

You are fearless. You pull yourself up on everything, everywhere, and you are so, so proud of yourself. Though you are quickly learning that with mobility comes forehead bruises.

You are extroverted. You wave, smile, and clap at everyone you see, and you are simply enchanted by little people. Toddlers nearby provide all the entertainment you need. And you are persistent when it comes to making new friends. The other day, you waved at a nearby family for 10 minutes during a meal, until they finally noticed and paid you back with a full-family chorus of excitement in your direction. You threw your head back, giggled, and clapped with delight.

You are talkative. Mostly with "mama"s and "dada"s and "nana"s, but these often combine to form entire stories that you tell yourself.

You understand us! The other day I said to you: "come on over to see Bruno," and over you crawled. My jaw dropped. Your brain is amazing.

You are opinionated! And I dare say demanding... Especially if Bruno's leash or a handful of string cheese, banana, or watermelon are within your reach. Patience is not your forte. You are your mother's daughter.

Baby Harper now seems fleeting. Tonight I held onto you for just a few minutes longer before putting you into your crib. Every now and then, when your face lights up or you tell us something important in your own little language, I get a glimpse of the little girl you're going to be. Bright eyed and ready to take on the world.