Yep, the Babe is walking. Tuesday last week we were at an event for Taylor’s marathon team (did you know he’s running the Boston Marathon in April? Check it out) and we were walking Babes around the shop, taking turns being tugged on as she toddled along. There was a dog there, even–such a fun evening.
But toward the end, as we were gathering up our things to head home, we walked by the front counter–with all those lovely little Things displayed so neatly, and so easily reachable by baby fingers. I kept walking past it, taking Babe along, but she emphatically let go of my finger and walked toward the socks and energy gels. Girl realized she can go where she wants to go if she walks on her own 🙂
And then on Wednesday, she walked all the way from the bedroom, through the living room, through the kitchen, to the trash can to throw out her diaper. By herself. I only had to help her over the unruly carpet and threshold of the bedroom door. That was the end. She’s walking all the time now.
We’ll be sitting on the couch, just chatting, and a brown curly head comes peeking over the arm and walks around the corner, carrying a book for us to read to her.
In the bedroom sometimes she’s like a ping pong ball, walking from the bed to the hope chest to the dresser to the secretary to the sewing machine to her dresser to her bed to the rocking chair and back to the bed. Giggling all the time. Sweetness itself.
Her favorite sound is “pshaw.” We’re not sure why, but it (almost) always elicits a smile from her.
By far her favorite snack is toast. Buttered toast. And no matter where she is in the house, if she heard the toaster pop up, she looks up, cackles, and heads as fast as she can to the kitchen to get her toast (tos tos tos). Even if it’s not toast we’re making.
But she’s been trying other foods, too. She will finally eat sweet potatoes from our fork, and yesterday she shared an entire half of an avocado with me. We will try cheese next. She wasn’t a fan the first several times we tried it. One night, though, she gobbled down bite after bite of sauteed chard. Go figure.
She’s getting big. When I hold her to give her her bottle at night and rock her to sleep, she is growing off my lap. Almost by the hour, it seems. I know that parents always say “where did my baby go?” but I often feel that quite sharply, since we couldn’t be with her for the majority of her infant-hood. But I’m not sure that getting to hold her every minute of every day would have made me feel less the way I do today.
Where did Baby Babe, go? When did she become such a little girl?