Rachel attacks a strawberry

"Attacks" is the verb Drew used to describe her enthusiasm. He was unloading a pint of strawberries from the farmers market on Saturday when Rachel grabbed a strawberry, popped it in her mouth and chewed and chewed and chewed, getting strawberry juice all down the legs of her jeans.

On Sunday morning, Drew cut up a bunch of strawberries for me and we fed some to Rachel. When I looked up from the newspaper, she had a huge grin on her face and strawberry pieces all over her. I couldn't help thinking that she looked as if she was either the witness or the killer at a gruesome crime scene. Luckily she was in her "feeding clothes," an outfit that we don't care gets dirty. We're told that some parents, when their kids are learning to eat, strip their kids down to their diapers and feed them mostly naked, then just hose them off or draw them a bath.

Yesterday the red on her bib was for real -- Rachel was playing with Drew in the living room when she bumped her chin on the hardwood floor. It looked mild, but then the blood came, fast, and she started really crying. She calmed down quickly when Drew took her in his lap and cuddled her. He gave her a frozen teething ring and she sucked on it, as if she knew she needed to, to get the bleeding to stop. Eventually it did, but we wound up getting to Doug & Linda's barbecue later than we wanted. Everyone admired Rachel, though. She's getting so big! they said.

And this morning, I made the mistake of reading the last chapters of "What to Expect (when you're expecting) -- the first year." I now realized there are a bunch of things we should have been/should be doing with Rachel -- weaning her from a bottle, teaching her pronouns, telling her about colors, shapes, etc. I tend to talk to her when I'm cooking dinner and explain what I'm doing, but when we're alone and she's playing on the blanket, I'll read or just watch her, or join in. But I don't chatter at her constantly. It's not in my nature.

I guess I thought she'd just pick this stuff up at daycare or from being out in the world -- just like she spontaneously started pulling up, saying "mama" and "dada," and putting her arms through her shirtsleeves. Big error on my part.