You’re crawling! You’re pulling up! You have a tooth!
As much as I’d like to stop there, I will continue to document this monumental month here in child-development-land.
Yes, you finally figured out how to crawl. Thank goodness we don’t have to send you to Crawling Camp. And, yes, also have a bottom tooth, with a neighboring tooth also slowly emerging. We can stop dropping hints that you go to Toothless Anonymous now. Phew.
So… crawling, check. Pulling up onto everything, check. Including (especially) my pant legs, check. Growing a tooth, check. Eating something not pureed, check. Falling down a lot, check. Subsequently knocking your head on everything, check. Still not putting anything into your mouth yourself (not a cooling ring, not a nibble of food, not the cat’s tail), check. Kid, one day, you’re going to want to feed yourself. Or relive your tooth pain. Or anger the cat. Putting things in your mouth is an essential step one.
You are no longer our immobile kiddo. You’re not into everything the way that parents of other moving kids warned us you would be. Yet, I suppose, is the proper refrain. The only thing you’re really into is picking out each kibble of the dog’s food bowl, or crawling swiftly towards the fat cat with her white belly in the air. You’ve yet to drink the Clorox under the sink or fall down the basement stairs, but maybe we should shut that door more often and invest in one cabinet lock. Maybe.
We also had some adventures this past month, including a lunchtime concert at school, a trip to Washington, DC to visit some friends and your aunt and uncle, and countless trips to nurseries or plant stores, sometimes way past your bedtime to avoid crowds.
Two other big things that happened this month are in relation to your relatives. See, your Grandma came to visit for Easter. That Grandma. Yep, that one. Don’t worry, she took the train, since she has no peripheral vision on her left side. Her recovery is another update all together, but I will point out that, although you didn’t let her hold you (the way you don’t let strangers hold you), but you did smile at her. That in and of itself is a milestone. I’m pleased beyond pleased that she got to meet you and see what a gentle, patient, kind little girl you are. She can’t stop calling me to tell me how wonderful you are, and I can’t seem to stop gracefully accepting her compliments.
On the other side, your mother wrote about her Grandma Hazel, and I actually had the pleasure of meeting her a couple of times. She’s what I imagine your mom will look like in 60 years, and one of my fondest memories is seeing both of them sit on the couch together, with an uncanny resemblance. When you hear your mama say something like, “Oh my God, I have my grandmother’s exact body” followed by an audible SIGH… it’s that grandmother she’s referring to.
Month ten came on the heels of your mom going to California for a few days to be with her Grandma before she passed away. You and I mastered the art of getting out of the house clean, dressed, and fed – although the first day, it took us two hours. By Wednesday, we could do it in an hour and 15. Needless to say, I am so glad I’m not a single parent. For more reasons I can count. You’re lovely, kid, but you’re hard to reason with these days. Especially when two nights in a row, massive storms sent our lights flickering and Tornado warnings beeping on the TV.
Despite your resistance to sleep through the night without waking yourself up doing God Knows What, you are still a very sweet girl. You test our patience, but your smile, your laugh, and the way you sleep with your butt high up in the air makes it all worth it.