So many things & they all happen simultaneously

Well, Miss Evie-Pie, your birthday has come and gone. It has happened already so long ago... time just marches on whether you want it to or not.
Sometimes we make her scrub the floors with her own hairbrushThere are many things I wanted to say about your 12th and final month of being a baby and now I find myself being forced to move along with time. I don't know when I'll get to say all these things (so much has happened this past week!). Your 12th month is a bit of a blur.
I will say that in the last WEEK, you have taken a fondness for books. Not so much as in "reading" them as you are into pulling them off the shelf one-by-one. You like to open the pages, just once to which ever page the book falls, and then cast it aside for another book. It was cute the first time. It gets a wee bit exhausting when you beeline back into your bedroom from the kitchen to tear the books back off the shelf for the third time that day. Dad and I joke about how your cousin Rachel also really liked books. Rachel is also a bit of a whiny complainer these days (age 5) so we really are not joking at all when we liken you to her... we actually fear the path you may be headed down.
In recent days you have discovered your TONGUE. You have not only gone back to borderline gagging yourself by shoving all 4 fingers in your mouth in order to touch the back of it... you also grab it and run your fingers on it like you simply cannot imagine what this slimy, wet thing is. This is cute until you dry heave or then use your drooly hand to try and grab my tongue in comparison.
Lastly, I have begun this habit of referring to you as the baby. Example: 'Well, I took the baby to the store and then we went out for a bite to eat." This is something I always hated about people and yet here I am. *sigh*. I resolve to do better at calling you Eve or Evie and not "the baby". I feel like that Seinfeld skit and the fiancee.
Oh, and one more thing, the passing of your birthday marks the end of my monthly reports. I hate dooce.com's "month 437" for her daughter and I think a monthly newsletter losses its sentiment after the first year or so. I will mark the passage of time in quarters this next year (or maybe by season) so as not to bore readers (or myself).

HAPPY BIRTHDAY baby... er... Evie.