October 20, 2009

You almost sit up now.  I mean, you do sit up, but after a moment (a minute is a good long moment for a baby) you topple over, face down onto our dirty carpet.  And then in a blink of an eye,  you roll to your back — which you absolutely do not like — and then over again to your belly.  There you will struggle (you want to crawl so much) but you can’t move forward or back, and you can’t pull your belly completely off the floor.

Today I found that you will open your mouth on cue if I make a funny noise as I move the spoon towards you.  It’s the train and tunnel game.  You like to eat now, realizing it’s not just flavor to roll around in  your mouth, but nourishment and energy and warm contentment.

I’m so happy that your dada can give that to you now, food. Especially because feeding us is what he does.

We set up the crib.  Dinah and Kesey are pleased.

When you were really little, we walked home — your dad carried you, I pushed the stroller.  I lagged behind, still so slow from the pregnancy, and he walked on, your little hand wrapped toward his back, your fingers peeking out from under his arm.

I still see that sometimes.  Your little hand wrapped around his back, right where it should be.

You let us wobble your voice with a finger to  your lips.  You make your voice go up and down and we make it silly and incredibly cute.

You see everything now it seems.  You see the cats (of course) and the t.v., the computer monitor.  You love to watch things move — cars driving by.

Most of all, you love to watch things fall through the air — a toy, a ball.  You laugh, a sweet little baby giggle.  You crack up at your brothers.  Like nothing else.


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