Hitting Our Stride

The day started like most days. You know, toe to nose touches, arm crosses, butt rotations, and, of course, baby sit ups. We’re all about calisthenics now. And Jem seems to like it. We clap after each set of 10, and she, the most flexible of the three of us by far, looks up at us with an expression that says, “You think that’s good? Wait till you see what I can do with my feet!”

And if that’s not exciting enough, I puked on mom today, just to see what that was like. I aimed for her clavicle and actually hit it! Bull’s eye! Daddy was quick to clean-up, as if a bit of puke isn’t something to hover over and admire. What is he, some kind of neat freak?!

As you can tell, Jem’s become a lot more animated. She’s communicating now by blowing bubbles with her saliva, raspberrying, flailing her arms (she clocked mommy today), whining, and just generally running the show.

We believe this really is a breakthrough, and we think that it’s come from our neighbor, Naomi’s advice—Stop trying to create excitement that she’ll respond to, and instead, get down on her level and follow her lead.

And so this week has begun.

Not only is Jem communicating better (as we’re listening better), she’s also got more physical strength. She’s closing in on holding her own weight when she sits. With our support, she can stand for much longer than last week’s rubber legging. Today, in crawling position, she reached for a toy that was out of arm’s length, and maneuvered to get it! Not a full crawl, but we’ll take it. This was followed by a standing ovation.

We realize that this is the kind of boring reportage that parents exchange between themselves. But this is our life now, so indulge us for the next few weeks (or years). We promise to listen to NPR when we get home so we can talk with you about other topics.

It’s also clear now, that Jem’s developing both at her own pace and within her own personality. As Naomi said, you don’t have a cheerleader on your hands, but you do have a keen observer. Steve’s sure she’s Harvard material. Though if she prefers RISD, that’s fine with us.

Yesterday was a day of a few firsts: We forgot the teething toys, which was a big no-no. As a consolation price, we offered our fingers, which were gracefully accepted, and then nearly crushed in the nutcracker of her jaw. The chick can chew! And she’s got about 5 teeth—maybe more—coming in. She doesn’t complain too much. But it does seem to make her want to jump.

What made us want to jump, was the machine gun fart—rat-tat-tat-tat—she fired this afternoon. Right when Jane was feeding her. As if nothing was happening at all! She takes after her grandmothers. (Well, and her parents, if we have to be honest.)

Jem also fell asleep with us, for the first time. We were swinging in a big chair seat, with her on our lap, and next thing we knew, she was down for the count. (No TKO, Grampy B.)

When she awoke, we were escorted to the doctor’s office where her new measurements were taken, and she was her usual sweet self. Compliant and at ease. She’s grown in every dimension, especially in the noggin department. Proof, again, of Steve’s theory that she’s Harvard material. If not, at least she’ll wear a big hat like her father.