Jake, you are sweet and adorable, and I love you ferociously. That said, you can, on occasion, be a bit of a pain in the arse. I have a small list of complaints I'd appreciate you addressing immediately. And since I know you're a faithful reader of my blog (as are many 11-month olds), I'll post them here.
1) I'd like it if you'd stop screeching like a banshee when I wipe your nose. If that's not possible, then at the very least, clear up the mystery of why you find this to be such a violation. You blithely allow me to perform a great number of actions that seem far more objectionable than an innocent beak-wiping. For instance, you chatter happily away while I repeatedly grab at your kicking feet so that I can trim your toenails. The kicking, grabbing, and hit-and-miss clipping sessions can go on for a small eternity with no real objections from you. Likewise, you're downright agreeable about allowing me to poke you in the ear with a Q-tip while you splash away in the bathtub. You cheerfully acquiesce nearly every time I propose the idea of snatching off your diaper and swabbing your nether regions with a cold Wet Wipe. Most surprising is your laissez-faire attitude as I take your rectal temperature. And yet when I attempt to make a harmless pass across your beak with a Kleenex, you wail like you're afraid I'm one step away from jamming my thumbs knuckle-deep into your nostrils. As soon as you learn to talk, I'm going to demand an explanation for this completely irriational fear of yours.
2) You're right, it is incredibly cool that you can now get around on your own! I don't blame you for being excited about all the things you can examine and all the places you can explore now that you are a whiz at making your way across a room without help. However, it would be nice if you would finish your bottle sometimes before popping up and heading for the window to bang joyfully on it. Don't get me wrong, the joyful banging is super cute, as are the grimy little fist-sized smudges all over my windows. But all I ask is that you finish your bottle before hopping up. You need your energy for pounding on the TV screen and the smudged glass-top coffee table that I now realize it was a mistake to buy.
3) What's so bad about naps? Naps are nice. When you become an adult, a nap will be your friend. I often spend large chunks of my day wishing I were napping. Heck, I'm half-asleep right now. But you do not share my affection for naps. You seem to view nap time as a time to cry and sob until you pass out in a pool of your own snot and tears. Learn to love the nap. Surrender, and embrace the nap. Someday when you're grown up you will appreciate how a good long nap can change your whole attitude, temporarily halting the fantasies you may have about killing your coworker or ramming your car into the a-hole who cut you off in the grocery store parking lot. Naps save lives.
4) I don't mean to nitpick, but you can be a bit of a messy eater. But here's the thing: It should be easy for you to bring food to mouth without mishap, given that your arms are so disproportionately stubby. The distance the food has to travel, therefore, is short. Of the two of us, I should be the messier eater. My arms are way longer, and there's far more room for error when food is traveling that great distance from hand to mouth. So from now on, there'll be no more of this: I expect more of you, my stubby-armed, filthy bib-wearing friend.
5) There's nothing exciting about the drain in the bathtub. It's shiny and may look deceptively interesting, but when you get a close look at it, you'll discover that it's not a toy, not food, not a button that, when pressed, sets off a carnival of lights and sound. No, it's just a hole in the tub. Very boring. So stop trying to climb out of your baby tub and get your soapy mitts on that drain. Everything that glitters is not gold.
6) A rarely-discussed fact about electrical cords is this: They look tastier than they actually are. I do find your electrical cord radar to be quite an impressive thing: Any time you're deposited in the middle of a room, your ability to quickly locate, make your way over to, and stuff in your mouth the nearest electrical cord is really quite amazing. However, your ardent love of gnawing on electrical cords is in direct conflict with my desire to keep you alive into adulthood. So cut it out, or I'll be forced to duct-tape your arms to your sides.
This concludes my list of grievances. And just so you don't think I'm all take and no give, I'm willing to change a couple of my behaviors that I know you don't like. I hereby promise to stop putting you into strangers' shopping carts at the grocery store when they're not looking, just to see their reaction when they turn around and see you there. And if you're very well-behaved, I'll stop taping photos of my ex-boyfriends to the inside of your diapers. I realize it's funny to me, but a bit uncomfortable for you.