Saturday, September 6, 2008
Baby blue eyes
I've decided that babies are a lot smarter than anyone gives them credit for. For instance, Lola has always been close to rolling over and has even mastered rolling over while lying atop a pillow. But, really, what does she have to gain in rolling over quickly? She'd just be one step closer to sitting up on her own, crawling and standing on her own. She'd have already set the bar so that Ray and I would expect that she would soon be walking -- and then she would just be that much closer to having a dishrag put in her hand and being directed to the dirty dishes in the sink.
So, really, it's to her benefit that she hold off. I mean, whether she walks at 12 months or 22 months, we're still going to coo and squeal and be just as excited no matter what month is it.
I'm pretty sure she has figured this out, too. Lola, who has always loved her paci, now refuses to take it unless the giver literally clucks like a chicken or makes what Ray calls a "chipmunk noise" by clicking one's teeth repeatedly. So she not only has us bending over and sprinting from the other side of the room when it falls out of mouth, but she now has us acting like Alvin the Chipmunk.
Seriously, if babies could communicate with one another, I wonder what they would talk about? Baby A would say he has caregivers running around the house looking for the only paci that keeps him happy. Baby B says she reserves all her smiles until her dad does the Macarena. And Lola would say she has her parents imitating wildlife about six times every hour.
But, of course, she's so darn cute that it's worth it.
We're also thrilled to help whenever we can. For about a week now Lola has been developing a move in which she puts her paci back in her mouth on her own. When it falls out of her mouth, if it gets caught at her neck, she throws both her hands up toward her face and about one time in five she is able to put the nuk back in place. Well, of course, this doesn't always work and when it falls between her legs or off the her side, she needs help. But, when she sees you coming, she kind of panics and repeatedly throws her hands up, as if to say, "Leave me along; I can do it on my own." Then, when you do get it for her, she clamps her mouth shut and glares at you...until you make the chipmunk noise. Then, she smiles and opens up.
Yup. She's already got us trained.
- Bethany :)