How? Don't know. Am I responding to her needs? Am I offering comfort? Has she been in the sun too much? Will that french fry result in childhood obesity? It's crazy how I want to do so much better for her than I do for myself. I guess that's parenthood. I'm allowed to be neurotic from time to time, right?
In most birthday-month posts I list Abby's accomplishments, likes, dislikes and quirks. The past few days I've been thinking about things Abby no longer has or does, her fleeting and precious attributes.
Abigail. . .
- doesn't have a mohawk anymore. Only a bit of hair sticks up on the back of her head.
- has long lost the baby reflexes: grasp, fencer, and my favorite, startle.
- no longer raises her hand in her sleep, passes gas, and slowly lowers her hand back down.
- only rarely makes noises in her sleep. Gone are the coos and clicks I so loved.
- won't nurse for long periods of time. Three minutes flat and she's put away a meal.
- doesn't fall asleep in my arms nearly as much. She prefers the bed or the carseat of a moving vehicle.
- "eats" a variety of solid food.
- refuses to be spoon fed. She needs to hold the spoon herself.
- holds a sippy cup.
- army crawls across the floor.
- can army crawl to the vacuum cleaner and chew on the power cord (err. . .what? Bad mom.)
- poses on her hands and toes.
- pulls her knees underneath herself.
- loves playing with blocks.
- rolls around in her sleep.
- babbles "dadada" and "bababa."
- grunts loudly to show she's mad.
- does not like to be still.
- still sucks her toes.
- is mesmerized with other people's toes.
So I'm assuming it will all change again soon, eh?
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