Wednesday, March 26, 2008
You turned nine months old last week. You have a great smile that features one tooth in the middle of your bottom gum. You're quick to smile, and enjoy joking with me by putting your fingers or paper in my mouth to see what reaction you get, playing peekaboo, accomplishing new feats like turning the bedroom light on and off, pointing the remote at the radio, banging on the xylophone, etc. Your hair is growing in and starting to curl in the back -- you may have inherited some natural wave from your father! You are still not wild about 'solid' food. Somewhere along the line during our month-long trip to California and Australia, you decided not to eat solids on a regular basis, and I still haven't convinced you to resume a regular eating pattern. Last week you started clapping, and you've been a good jumper since you were five months old. You're not a cry-baby: when you got your second flu shot last Monday, you didn't cry, and when you tumble at home, you don't get upset unless it's a bad fall. You enjoy the books we've been reading to you since you were less than two months old, and can open the flaps of your "Spot goes to [the farm/school/etc]" books by yourself. You also follow all the instructions in 'Pat the Bunny' and you like books by Sandra Boynton, so we've collected the whole set. You smile whenever the phone rings and we answer it, and playing with the phones, going for walks in your stroller, and especially walking with assistance at home are three sure-fire ways to cheer you up anytime of day. Lately, you and I have become especially close. You're in a 'mom' phase right now, and when you get tired, you prefer to be bathed by and hang out with me, but you'll let your father read you bedtime stories and put you to bed, and you'll allow almost anyone to hold your hands if they'll walk you around the house. You have proved you can crawl by scooting along the floor using your hands and legs 'commando' style, but you cry the whole time, and only do it to reach me if I sit a few feet away and refuse to help you, which I don't do often (or often enough). You prefer to practice walking with help, and are happiest if I park you at the coffee table to explore, or in front of the glass doors of the office, where you can talk to your reflection. Every day, you 'talk' a little more and thrill us again with your smiles and laughs.
Here's video of clapping, and some recent pictures from Easter Sunday (walking with your Uncle Ben), crying, and a smile that shows your tooth.
Ella clapping from /michael. on Vimeo.