Jane is now 9-1/2 months old. We went for her well baby check-up a couple weeks ago, and of course, she is as healthy as can be! Developmentally, she's about two months ahead of schedule, waving "bye-bye", helping when being dressed, turning the pages of a board book, and understanding "No No." In addition, rainbows and unicorns appear any time she passes gas, and when she poops, all we find are Skittles in the diaper. Yes, she's just that perfect.
Jane's a very playful little girl, and will initiate a game of peek-a-boo by hiding behind the bed and then popping her head up and shrieking with laughter, then darting back behind the side of the bed, or she will fight you for the last Cheerio on her plate, laughing when she pries it from under your finger and quickly shoving it into her mouth before you can get it back.
This past week, in an effort to redirect her when she's been willful or crabby, I'll play a song I recently downloaded (Barrel of a Gun by Guster), and I'll scoop her up in my arms to dance around the room with her. She grabs my shirt as I bounce and twirl her around. I've done this a half-dozen times to the same song, not giving it much thought. Then this afternoon, Steve was watching Jane, giving me a break and a chance to work out. When I turned on my music to work out, Barrel of a Gun came on. Jane was right in the middle of sneaking over to the cat food bowl to purloin some kibbles when she heard the music, and suddenly stopped mid-crawl. She sat up on her knees, feet behind her and looked at me, then slowly started swaying back and forth to the beat of the music as a smile crept across her face. This was the dance song, and she knew it. She raiser her arms to me, so that I would pick her up and twirl her around, which I readily did. Such fun.
This afternoon I let her crawl around outside, which she loves to do. We have a fenced yard, and she will sometimes cruise along the fence where she might pick up a piece of the bark that lines the flower beds. As it is, everything goes in her mouth. If she could manage it, the cat would go in her mouth. For several months now, I've chased her down and removed all non-food items, such as leaves, grass, flowers, bark chips, lint, and paper goods from Jane's mouth. For a while, I would drop pieces of lettuce outside, in hopes that Jane would choose that to put in her mouth over random dried leaves in the courtyard. Finally, I think I've managed to channel that mother of three small children: I swept the area clean, then I chose two large chips of bark that would be too large to choke on, rinsed them off, and placed them in Jane's path. At least she would chew on "sanitized" bark... As it was, rather than fight me to keep them in her mouth, once I OK'd the activity, she lost interest in eating the bark.
This may seem like good news, but I know better. She's already copped the attitude of: "Well, if Mom disapproves, it must be fun!" and the corollary, "If Mom thinks it's OK, it must be pretty boring."
Yeah.
Where's that Dr. Dobson book again?
Sorry, Jane. No kibbles for you.
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