Oct 21, 2011
Oh sweet girl, you are growing up too fast! Yesterday you started trying to walk. I admire your bravery and perseverance. I know you are compelled to move on to the next big thing, but so often in my life, I give up when I fall down. But I'm watching you stand back up again and take one more halting step. (I think the cloth diapers help. Lots of padding for the falls.)
It seems the last few weeks, my baby is gone and a fledgling toddler is in her place. You've discovered how to open cabinet doors, and now your favorite thing of all is helping me to unload them. So far, I haven't gotten any locks. I've just moved some things up and away and let you enjoy the rest... after all, a little mess is a small price to pay for the joy of discovery.
And the dishwasher and the dryer and the bathroom drawers... you love to unload, unpack, undo all these things. Daddy's sock in my craft drawer. A small bottle of lotion in the dryer. You're also learning to put things in places, and so I often find little Cora treasures hidden in unlikely spots. And the TV. You discovered the power button. So now we have a piece of cardboard blocking the funnest game in town.
You love to eat... but lately it has mostly only been if you are the one in control of what goes into your mouth. So you feed yourself lots of snacks. Gumming sliced bananas while I feed you yogurt/cereal/applesauce is currently your favorite breakfast. It surprises me how much you can get down.
One of your favorite places in our little apartment is the balcony. We live on the third floor, and so you have a bird's eye view up here. You crawl out there and hold onto the rails and shout at the top of your lungs. Sometimes there are passers-by who look up and talk to you. And sometimes it is just the birds. But you definitely have a lot to say. Sometimes you sit out there with a bucket of water and cups. Emptying the bucket is a great way to pass an afternoon... and a little water never hurt anyone.
Speaking of having a lot to say, we think you might be a little Chinese after all. The Chinese have this amazing ability to have whole conversations in a series of grunts. Your Dad, a man of few words, thinks it is particularly useful. And lately it's been the way you "talk" to us, too. You make a grunt, and someone repeats your sound. You make another one, and there is a retort. And the game goes on. and on. and on.
You haven't been sleeping so well lately. Afte sleeping through the night a few times to show me you could, you recently decided that you don't have to do that. After all, I suppose some 3:00 am cuddles are a nice little break from the quietness of your bed. I won't pretend I always do it gracefully. You had me in tears the other night when you wouldn't let me put you down from midnight to 3:00. But then I remembered how I had wished just a few days before that you would take one more nap on my chest, so I lay down on the couch with you curled under the crook of my neck and we both slept. (You better than me.)
Some tell me I should just let you cry it out. But I can't. I spent too many years with babies who stopped crying because no one ever came. I can meet your needs, and so I do. I trust that someday you'll grow to be an independent little girl, but right now you can be a dependent little baby. I love every moment, and sometimes I wish I could slow it all down... for it is moving far too quickly. But I hear it just keeps getting better and better, so instead of wishing you'd slow down, I think I'll just try to enjoy the ride.
I love you sweet girl. You are such a gift.