Must . . . Get . . . Twig!

A walk in the park

We went for a walk in the park today, after school and work, to soak up the last of the warmth and sun before the evening came.

It was an unmitigated joy.

Sophie hooted and jabbered and pointed.

She saw trees and a squirrel, two dogs, several runners, and wood chips, and an evergreen branch that had fallen right on the path where she could pick it up.

Her daddy laughed and jumped and made funny faces to make her laugh--and she squealed in delight.  Then her mommy ran around in a circle and jumped up and down and tickled her--and she laughed and laughed.

She walked all by herself.  She walked in between us and held our hands.  She picked up branches and rocks and wood chips and (when she'd gotten all the wood chips out of the way) dirt.  She slyly tried to sneak a rock into her mouth and laughed 'cause she almost got one over on us when we caught her and made her spit it out.

She rode on our shoulders and hugged our legs.  We carried her in our arms until she twisted and squirmed her way upside down.  We held her upside down and she giggled.

We made our way slowly home.  (Slowly, because we had to stop to touch things, and pick them up, and try to put them in our mouths).  Sophie provided a running commentary along the way.

And then a hearty meal of pickles, and tomatoes, and strawberries, and yoghurt.

A bath.

and bed.

We prefer to call it "leadership potential"

Sophie has become more and more aware of how the world works.

She has also been getting bossy.

The two seem to be related, in that she knows what could be happening and doesn't understand why it can't be happening now.

She has in the past couple of weeks:

• gotten upset at her daycare teacher for paying attention to another child
  
• started toddling up to other children to take their toys (this might seem to be bullying, but we prefer to call it "leadership potential")
  
• protested loudly if not allowed to dig through the recycling
  
• protested loudly if we shut the door to her room or put up her gate
• protested loudly if anything in general fails to happen that she wants to happen right now

There is a lot of right now in her world, and very little just a minute, not now, and patience.

three for three

Last night we said, “Bring us Oveja.” Sophie walked over to her three animals, grabbed the sheep and brought him over. “Bring us Mono.” Again she walked over to the lineup and found the right animal. Lastly, we asked for Mouse and she delivered mouse to us. We celebrated with a group victory hug.

I believe

And in the bath today, her mother and I were helping her play with her duck.

"Do you want duckie?" we would say, and offer her the duck.

"Is that for me?  Why thank you for the duck!" we would say when she offered it back to us.

"Here you go," we would say, the one of us to the other, "Would you make sure Sophie gets this duck?"

"Duh!" said Sophie.  "Duh! Duh! Duh!"

Mouse!

I am a language skeptic. I do not believe that she is saying the things that her mother says she is saying. I think she's just babbling, and that a certain amount of babble will be statistically likely to sound something like a word to a sympathetic listener--not to mention an enthusiastic and eager listener.

But this afternoon, while playing in her room, I happened to say a line out of one of her books, apropos of nothing much.

"What does the happy chimp say?" I asked, "Ooo! Ooo! Ooo! Ooo!"

Sophie stopped and looked around. She seemed slightly confused, like she expected to see something but didn't.  She's looking for the book! I realized.

I decided to test her comprehension.

"Where's mouse?" I asked, with a rising intonation, "Where's mouse?"

Mouse is her second favorite plush friend (numero uno being Mono, her monkey).

"Where's mouse?" I asked, and she hooted once, tottered over to Mono, picked him up and looked back inquiringly at me.

"No, that's Mono.  Where's Mouse?  Where's Mouse, Sophie?"

She tottered further and picked up her sheep.

"No, that's Oveja [sheep]," I said, "Where's mouse?"

She tottered on and picked up Mouse.

"There's Mouse!" I said triumphantly, and clapped my hands.  She squeal-roared with victory and totter-ran back to my arms where I gave her a celebratory hug.

So sure, Lucky Hans could count to ten, but how about some mad props for being able to understand she was looking for a stuffed animal at all--and not, say, any of the myriad blocks and books and balls that littered the way?

Birthday Party

So it's a week (or two) late, but better late than never, right? Here are a couple of pics from Sophie's B-day. The pics everybody wants to see: Sophie eating her first bite of cake. The typical photo of the baby stuffing her face with cake has always seemed a bit disgusting to me and a bit demeaning. Let's show some manners and grace, I say. Luckily, Sophie didn't appear to be too enthusiastic about stuffing the cake into her mouth. I imagine it was overwhelming sweet for her since she doesn't get anything sweeter than organic barley cookies. In fact, in the picture she looks almost resigned to eating the cake. While Sophie may have not been a huge fan of the cake, the rest of us were. The cake was wonderful. Sophie's b-day was a great excuse to go get a cake from Carol.

Sophie's Language Skills

Here is a run down of Sophie’s language development. I’ve seen her use two signs, all done and water. She signed all done the other day at daycare along with one of the care givers with a very subtle twist of the wrist when we were finishing up lunch. Yesterday when I took Sophie down to the river, she signed water, three fingers under the mouth.

Sometimes she seems to be saying “yes” and a lot of time she seems to be saying “no.” “No” is especially popular at mealtimes. However, if I still offer her the food, she usually eats it. She does not seem to know “mom” or “dad” but she can make “ma, ma, ma” and “da, da, da” noises. Recently she's started busting out long soliloquies of babble.

She seems to understand quite a bit more than she can sign or speak. I’ve asked her to put blocks in a bowl, which she did. She’s also pointed to her head when asked where it is. She can clap if you ask her too also. Each time she responds to something new, I have a brief freak out moment when I realize she is starting to understand things. Although I find the idea of speaking with Sophie appealing, I’m really surprised at how well we already communicate.

Sophie's first birthday

Here is a bit of video of Sophie opening a birthday gift. She was very enthusiastic.

One entire year,...

and we still haven't accidentally dropped her on her head!

(nor on purpose, lest there be any doubt).

Pickles and Yoghurt

. . . It's what's for dinner.

Well, I offered her other things, but the bulk of what went into her mouth was pickles and yoghurt.

Gnaw on the pickle - a spoonful of yoghurt; gnaw on the pickle - a spoonful of yoghurt; swing the sippy cup around - watch it fall unto the ground; gnaw on the pickle - a spoonful of yoghurt; cackle at daddy - give a grin; gnaw on the pickle - now do it all again.

typical

I took her to the Hands-On Museum. This is a place devoted to letting kids learn about science by touching and prodding and manipulating things. There are soap bubble machines, and gongs, and magnets, and levers, and rope, and a splashy area with toy boats, and foam pads, and bouncy floors, and an olde timey store where you can play with all the stuff, and a climbing wall, and a faux masonry area that invites you to build an arch or a wall out of foam bricks and then knock it down again.

I set her down amid all of this.

She looked around and then crawled straight over to an electrical outlet on the wall.

Understands and responds to simple commands

Some uncanny moments in her development:

• The time she kept kicking off her blanket in the library and I realized that she was playing a game with us.
  
• When she started sitting up and then standing up in her crib at night--somewhat shocking when you're expecting someone to be laying where you left her.
  
• And now, when we say certain things, she does things.  "Clap!" or "Pat-a-cake!" will elicit clapping.  "Give me five!" will have her searching for your palm so that she can slap it.  Just today, I got a wave when I suggested that she say "Bye Bye"!  And "Itsy-Bitsy Spider" and "Pat-a-cake" is beginning to elicit vague hand motions that are more than just claps.

All this prima-facie evidence that we have a real-live human being on our hands is a bit surprising.  Not that I expected her to be a cat or a capuchin monkey, but her development seems so fast.

Heading up to her first birthday, her mother and I have been looking at old pictures and saying "Oh!  So tiny!  So precious!" a lot.

edifying trip

I am not really sure why I believed that an 11-month old would find Washington DC an enriching experience. I guess I overestimated her intelligence by about four years. Her favorite part was *not* the Smithsonian Museums and she barely noticed when we walked in front of the Capitol. She didn't mention once that we could see the place where Barack gave the inaugural address as the 44th president--granted, the seagulls were very distracting. Her favorite part of the trip hands down was the staircase at our friends' house. She loved to crawl up the stairs and even tried to walk up them even though she still can't really walk on her own yet. If she could blog, I'm sure she would write about this moment with Sebastian. She would write about how awesome it was to be on the steps *and* with the cat. Sebastian was so sweet letting her pet/slap at him. Outside of the picture is Claire hissing at Sophie. Sophie understood this as, "Hey, pay attention to me." Sophie almost lost a hand when she reached down to try to pet/grab Claire.

Although Sophie barely noticed the museums, she left the Museum of Natural Sciences with what is now her new favorite toy, Mono. Mono, aka Monkey, is, as the name rightly suggests, a small brown monkey that Jenny bought Sophie at the gift shop. Sophie could choose between a stuffed monkey or small purse; I was hoping she'd take the animal. Sophie seemed indifferent at first about her choices. However, once she got her hands on Mono, she squealed in delight. At home she loves to grab Mono and chew on his hands (I'm not sure how Mono feels about that). At night when I put her down for bed, she grabs Ducky and Mono and snuggles up with them. She'll never remember DC, but she'll always have Mono.

Mixed blessing?

I just got back from checking on her.  To make sure she's still breathing.  (Yes, yes she is).

Now that she's sleeping through the night (mostly, knock wood) she's uncannily quiet.  It's easy to go from happy I haven't heard a peep out of her in four hours to Oh My God I Haven't Heard A Peep Out Of Her In Four Hours!!

It doesn't help that she's taken to contorting herself into some odd positions.  We put her down on her back, but--here's how I just found her:  face down, butt up in the air, shoved herself into a corner, breathing regularly and peacefully.