This past weekend, at a friend's wedding in Virginia, I held her and danced with her for a very long time. I squatted next to her as she used my knee to help her stand. I clasped her little hands and let her lead me around the lawn while she "walked" wherever her curiosity led her. I didn't want to let her go, though at times I'm sure she would have been fine with it.
I know in a moment, she'll be walking without me. She'll be moving faster and falling harder. She'll be telling me things that come into her mind and I'll actually understand them. But right now, I feel the need to savor these last few days of her very young babyhood. Her hilariously floppy-handed and purposeful crawl. Her shimmy up my shins when she wants me to hold her. Her middle-of-the-night cries for mama's milk.
Before these things come to an end and her baby chub melts and her hair grows longer and her fingers become more useful and her independence takes more definite shape, I feel the need to write about the baby we know now:
Aida likes the rain. This weekend, she stood at the back door as it rained and had a long, involved conversation with herself about it, moving from one side of the french doors to the other side while she babbled, staring at the drop-drops and drizzles, completely oblivious to my presence.
She's way more comfortable approaching strangers than I am after 14 years of being a journalist. In airports (there have been many in these last couple of weeks), she crawls right up to people seated in terminals. Sometimes, she goes for their shoe laces. Sometimes, their zippered bags. She stares at them when they talk to her and, if she's feeling it, she responds.
She likes bling. Dare to wear a necklace, bracelet, earrings, pin, anything, around this child. In our Saturday music classes, while other babies are rocking or crawling, Aida is stalking some mom's bracelet or dangling necklace, eager to touch, to taste, to....PUULLLL! I'm talking to her about being gentle, not pulling, only touching. I hope it works. Life could get awkward if it doesn't.
Big open bathtubs scare her. Unless you turn on the facet. Since I put away the baby bathtub a couple weeks ago, Aida has decided to take all baths standing up. She relaxes a bit when the water's running, but not enough to actually sit down. Instead, she does squats under the facet, dipping low to the water and tilting her head up to drink from the stream. When I try to get her to sit, she screams in torment like the flames of hell are nipping at her ankles. Except at my Dad's house. When we were there, she sat down in the tub like she'd been doing it for years. It was the whole reason I decided to put the baby tub away.
She's a talker. (Can you say Steve?) In just the last week, Aida has started making noises we have never heard before. She goes on and on with herself as if she's holding a very animated conversation about very important things. Mixed in there is always surprise. "No, really, man! The lady seriously puts her boob in my face every day and, usually, milk comes out! It's amazing." She has a few words: "UP, dah." (Up, down.) "Mahmahmahmah" (Mama.) "DahDah." (Daddy.) OUTsuh. ("Outside," one of the first things I show her when she wakes up and I open the window shades.) "Hyhe!" (Hi.) And "Mmmmum." (Yum. The word she says when I sit her in her highchair and she prepares to eat.)
She will not sit still for a diaper change, wardrobe change, nail clipping, anything. Unless she's super tired and/or super full of milk, she lasts no longer than 5 seconds on her back before heading off in another direction. I've even tried bribery, handing her, say, the big beautiful tube of Destin to hold or the entire plastic box of wipes to play with. It worked for a few weeks. But she's over that. And thus I have become the master of the standing diaper change. I also chase her around the room to get her clothes on. Mornings, especially, she likes to take off, diaper only, out of the nursery, into the hallway or living room while I follow, dutifully informing of the merits of attire while she ignores anything I have to say. She flat refuses to let me clip any more than one fingernail at a sitting. She wants to see the clippers, taste the clippers, wield the clippers. I don't know how to resolve this. I have No. Friggin. Idea. And so she sports an occasional scratch on her delicate face from the fingernails that are too long.
She's a good napper. When she's tired, the entire world exhausts her. She has little tolerance for anything except sleep. Give her her blanky and she quiets down, presses it to her face, then rolls over to her side when placed in her crib.
She has great dental hygiene. When she gets done with her bath and I wrap her in her towel and grab her toothbrush, she opens her mouth and tilts her head back, ready for me to brush her teeth before clamping down on the brush and sucking on the bristles herself.
Last night, she learned how to "give.""Give mommy the spoon," I said, holding out my hand. And, after a few times, she got it. She placed her baby spoon in my open palm, which, of course, merited plentiful praise and kisses. Again and again and again.
She has rhythm. While we were doing all that dancing this weekend, Aida spontaneously clapped -- to the beat! She bounced -- to the beat! She waved her arms in the air -- not exactly to the beat, but like a little jam band groupie! Looks like my efforts to develop her inner boogie and overcome Steve's lack of rhythm or dance moves are already paying off.
She's the sweetest, most precious, most beautiful girl I have ever had the pleasure of being around. It's true. But, you expect me to say that. I'm her mom.
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| Dancing and clapping at Jeb & Sarah's wedding, Oct. 8, 2011. (The band was American Aquarium: http://www.myspace.com/americanaquarium) |
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