As a kid, I was so superstitious. I held my breath past all cemeteries (almost passing out a couple times), tossed salt with abandon and blamed my mother's death on the fact that, in a fit of rage, I threw my hairbrush at the mirror when I was 13 and shattered it. Now I don't hold my breath past cemeteries. As for the rest? Not much has changed. So one might understand why I have dreaded this month.
Despite my fears, the show must continue. Sammy is 13 months and for better or worse, we are going to have to get through this next month without stressing over black cats, cemeteries, broken mirrors or any other weird superstition that her mommy might have.
This past month has been a whirlwind of activity for the little one. She is the fastest crawler in the East, moving with a speed that I believe defies the laws of physics. She pulls up on everything and is cruising with abandon, becoming much, much steadier on her feet. Most recently, she has started allowing her father and me to "walk her." Although I am in no hurry, I will be pleased when she starts to walk if only for the fact that I would like to be able to set her down at the Home Depot or on other such tedious errands. No way am I letting her crawl around those floors and she is usually desperate to get down.
She continues to adore books. When I get her each morning, the first thing she want is her book (whichever one catches her eye). "Boo! Boo!" she yells, pointing until we grab it. Her vocabulary is extensive. She says: book, bubble, Mommy, Daddy, Rocky, more, milk, bottle and some other words that surprise me everyday. But her two favorite words (her words for EVERYTHING) are baby and puppy. Everything with two legs is a baby and everything with four? Yep, you got it. They are puppies.
Her personality continues to emerge and it is a strong one. She is insistent on remaining a baby, refuses sippy cups unless they are held, wants her bottle, prefers us to feed her rather than feed herself. Everyone says we have to bite the bullet and just stop feeding her until she learns to do it herself, but neither of us can bring ourselves to do it. Tough love is not an art either of us can manage. That said, I fear we will soon have more than a difficult toddler on our hands. We are building the perfect dictator, one coddling session at a time.
Now that the gate is up, Sam has full use of the house, something she loves. Her favorite toys include her books, her blankie, her fridge farm, her activity table, her keyboard, her bath toys and her drums. Her least favorite activities include being strapped into her car seat and being "asked" to do anything she is not feeling in the moment.
Her first lollipop:
Winter is so tiring, we are longing for spring:
Perfecting her gait:
1 comment:
She is growing up so quickly. It's cute that Isabella and Sam have the same morning book obsession. I am crossing my fingers for you that her hatred of the car seat doesn't transition to hatred of the stroller. Because having a baby that hates the stroller when you're an active mom SUCKS.
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