Milestones

Lots of new milestones this week! Nora has learned to clap-- or she may be signing "more." (I probably shouldn't be shoveling food into her mouth every time she claps, huh. But then again, I wouldn' t want to frustrate her attempts at communication.)

She's cruising now-- "walking" while holding on to the edge of her crib or a piece of furniture. She's successfully stood on her own for up to about 5 seconds.

She initiates games like peekaboo, improvising with things like the shower curtain or a door frame. She'll usually pull the fabric all the way in front of her face, but sometimes she forgets to do that-- and I get to see her sly little smile as she waits to surprise me with her continued existence despite disappearing from view. (I hate to ruin it for her by letting her know that I actually got the whole object-permanence thing years ago.)

She begs for food. I don't know if this should be considered a milestone, but it's new. I guess she's figured out that what we have is food, even if she's never seen it before, and so naturally it should be hers. And brother, she is delightfully open-minded about food. She tried some manchego cheese today. Loved it. Tried chicken yesterday. Loved it. (I should write a whole nother post about my squeamishness about feeding my baby meat, even though I eat it myself.) Tried hummus, feta, cantaloupe, collard greens. Loved it, loved it, loved it, loved it. Rich and I find ourselves scattering cereal puffs on the big floor pillow so that we can eat some of our own food without being pestered. It feels unsettlingly like feeding geese at the pond.

Her smile has changed, too. It's developed into this squinty, toothy grin, and she practices it on everybody-- strangers, dogs, trees. It seems more like an attempt to elicit a response from people than a true smile, but it's awfully charming. My photographic timing is such that I haven't been able to capture it on film. Yet.

And one of her favorite games is handing me something and then taking it back. She's pretty reliable about giving me something if I ask for it, unless of course she wants it, or doesn't want it now but thinks it may come in handy later on.

Clapping!

The beginning of the squinty grin. I snapped the photo too early.
If you think this is cute, imagine her face even scrunchier.

Nora handing me the coveted ceiling fan remote.
Ready to snatch it back should I prove unworthy.

She does love the ceiling fan remote.

Nora shares a serious moment with a spoon.

I need you to see that this outfit has a big cherry on the heinie.

Raspberry

Rich and I were in Crate & Barrel with Nora this afternoon and had the following exchange with a stranger. An older man smiled at Nora as we passed by; Nora appraised him coolly. "She doesn't smile at just anybody," I joked, and made a raspberry noise at her, which made her laugh.

Later, we passed the same man again; apparently forgetting exactly what type of mouth noise brought a smile out of Nora, he started clicking his tongue at her. Nothing. "Try a raspberry," I suggested. The man nodded, leaned in close to Nora, and whispered "Raspberry."

It didn't work on Nora, but it made my day.

Back on the Chart!

The receptionist at our doctor's office officially confirmed that Nora is the cutest baby who comes into their office. Sorry, other parents. There can only be one number one.

So Nora had her 9 month appointment, and here are the stats: 22 lbs 11 oz; 29.5 inches. She's in the 96th percentile, if I remember correctly, for both height and weight. And when you chart height and weight together, Nora is just about at the 50th percentile mark-- which means she is perfectly proportional. But the doctor says this doesn't really predict future height or build. We could still stunt her, in so many ways. (See Philip Larkin's poem, "This Be the Verse"-- unless you're opposed to tart language.)

Pictures, Belatedly

My girl loves to read . Also, check the thighs on this little monkey. This was in my aunt's phenomenal vacation home in Florida.

Also in Florida. I love this dress, but it does hamper one's crawling, so it's in the closet until she can walk. (Or until I need to show her off.)

Smiley little turtle-birdie.

Taking a breather. It's tiring to spend the afternoon ripping up cardboard boxes and copies of Entertainment Weekly. Sometimes you just have to collapse right in the middle of your debris pile.

Camping in July with friends. We made the decision to meet everybody up in Hueston Woods very late in the day; we messed up Nora's schedule, but she was a trooper.

Once she got tired of crawling frenetically around the tent like a daddy long-legs, she slept through the night very nicely. (Although she insisted on sleeping perpendicular to me, which cramped my style in a big way.)

She even took a nap the next morning while we were packing up. Man, I can't get enough of pictures of her sleeping.

"Hmm? Of course I was listening to you. Something about what a good girl I am, yogurt is yummy, yadda yadda."

Music recommendations, please!

It's come to my attention that I am starving my baby's brain by not playing music often enough. I just don't think to play music very often. Does anyone have any recommendations for music their babies and kids have loved, that wouldn't make my ears bleed? When I worked at the bookstore I remember liking John Lithgow's CD, but I'm not sure I could stand it over and over at home.

I ask mostly for the selfish reason that I love watching toddlers bounce up and down to music. And I eagerly anticipate teaching Nora made-up lyrics for adult songs.

An example of lyrics my friend George made up to satisfy his curious little boy:
It's gettin' hot in here
so take off your coat
(I am -- getting so hot-- I'm gonna take my coat offff)

[The real lyrics, in case you don't know, are "It's gettin' hot in here, so take off all your clothes (I am getting so hot I'm gonna take my clothes off)"]

Another milestone: giving and taking

In the last couple of days, Nora and I have spent a great deal of time passing objects back and forth. Yesterday it was a teething necklace; this morning it was my paycheck. "Oh, for me?? Oh, thank you!" "Here you go!" And repeat, ad infinitum. This feels like a milestone, though I haven't seen it mentioned in my "Your Baby This Week" emails or baby books.

Of course, when it's something I really want her to give me-- like the spoonful of cottage cheese that I'd prefer she not throw on the floor, or the handful of my hair pulled taut from that sensitive spot right behind my temple-- she's all, "No speeka da Engleesh."

Peekaboo

Here, Nora plays a rousing game of peekaboo with Grandmama and Granddaddy. I think this video will make me smile forever. Best. Baby. Ever.