Thursday, February 21, 2013
11 months old. Nothing compares to this little chick. And enjoying a baby is actually something to be learned. Spending time with her means accepting enrapture, amusement, a swarm of love and frustration and boredom all at once. So, the way I've learned to drink her in most effectively is to just to submit to the moment I am spending. Let her perilously pull herself up and sit back down 25 times in the bath (3 of those times mean a delicious "kiss" from her, with her wide open mouth), let her control the spoon she is being fed from (and not the yogurt that flies), let her turn the pages of the book and mess up the story line (Colette! the little baby should be shown sleeping after she takes the bath and gets the kisses from her papa), let her conclude that standing on her own is a legitimate reason to drop back to her knees once she realizes what she is doing (even if when distracted she can do it for 60 seconds sustained), let her decide when she needs to be close and when she wants to scoot away. One of the sweetest things she does is point out the moon - when we are outside on a walk and we ask her to find it, her little finger hovers above her body and traces the sky until it stops on the moon. I am so addicted to her.