Walking & grownup food

Rachel took two steps Saturday night! She was holding onto my hands the whole time, and she promptly went kerplunk on the ground when she was finished, but still...baby steps! Drew is positive that within weeks she'll be walking on her own.

I'm amazed she doesn't cry when she plops down, but I bet her diaper is a good cushion.

Also, this morning I fed her some thick and creamy vanilla yogurt Drew bought yesterday. She ate about a third of the container before turning away. She also regularly eats Cheerios and circular-shaped rice crackers, so we're going to be more aggressive about giving her big-people food. It's clear she's interested, especially in strawberries!

Baby nightmares?

Rachel woke up at 3 a.m. Sunday, screaming and crying inconsolably. I walked into her room and she was kneeling in the crib with a distressed look on her face. So I picked her up, brought her to the glider and slowly rocked her back down to sleep. When I put her back in the crib, she cried again, then went to sleep.

Last night she was very hard to get down -- kept screaming as if all hell was breaking loose. Finally Drew got her to sleep at around 11. She cried out at 3 a.m., but then pressed one of the buttons on the music box we've fastened to the crib. It plays gentle lullabies, and it's clear she uses that to get her back to sleep.

This morning she wasn't very cheerful when I walked in her room, probably because I had to make the bed and throw on some clothes before I got there. But she started smiling when I read her the two big picture books she grabs for every morning -- "Clip-clop," about a horse who lets all the barnyard animals ride on his back; and "Ten little fingers and ten little toes" about babies born all over the world.

At daycare, she cried when I set her down on the playmat. Since no one was available to take her, I cuddled her into my chest and rocked her on one of the gliders. Then, when one of the daycare ladies tried to pick her up, she clung to me. Her little fingers grabbed onto my shirt and wouldn't let go!

Of course, as soon as she was in someone else's arms, she forgot Mommy immediately. I have a feeling when I pick her up later, she'll be so happy playing that she won't want to go home!

Rachel's brain

Drew is reading a book about how babies' brains work, and he told me last night that at about 1 year of age or so, babies will grab blocks and other things and try to play with them in different combinations, as if to figure them out.

He said he noticed that last night, when I was working late and he was playing with Rachel, she kept grabbing different-shaped plastic toys like a star, a circle and a square and banged them together. Then she'd toss one aside and pick up a different-shaped block and banged it against the first block, as if she was searching for a particular sound the blocks made. She was doing this with great concentration.

"I don't know what you're looking for, sweetie," he told her, "but I hope you find it!"

Songs I can no longer sing

..because they make me cry:

--"Sunrise, Sunset"
--"Far from the home I love"
(both of the above are from the musical version of "Fiddler on the Roof")
--"Lullabye," by Billy Joel, which my chorus will sing for an upcoming performance for the Lutheran Women's Association, 3,500 strong, at a convention here in Portland.

I was singing "Lullabye" in chorus practice last night and I couldn't stop the tears, even though I've sung it over and over. Joel wrote the song when his daughter, Alexa, was a baby. There's a section in it that goes:

Goodnight, my angel
Now it's time to dream
And dream how wonderful your life will be
Someday your child may cry
And if you sing this lullabye
Then in your heart
There will always be a part of me

Every time I sing this song, it reminds me that someday Rachel will be grown up, with her own children and her own life. And I'm starting to cry right now thinking of it, that my little girl will one day be gone for good.

Wistful dad

..Drew and I were talking last night, me reminding him that we really need to start weaning Rachel from her bottle and get her to use a cup. She's growing up too fast, he said.

"How long do you want her to be a baby, anyway?" I asked.

"For a couple more years," he said. "I just want to be able to keep playing with her!"

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.

Rachel's gifts

Lately, Rachel has been in an exceptionally generous mood. She tries to give me everything -- starting with her pacifier yesterday morning after I gave her her bottle. She was quite insistent that I put the nipple end in my mouth.

Then, yesterday afternoon, I gave her my keys to play with. When she was finished, she handed them to me with a smile. I try to make a habit of saying, "May I have my keys back, please? Thank you, Rachel!" just to get an early start on good manners.

Yesterday evening, though, she outmaneuvered me. She tried to offer me a Cheerio (after she had gummed it within an inch of its life; you can imagine how sticky and gross it was). As I was about to take it, she snatched it back, with a huge smile.

Our friend Kim thought this was hilarious. "Hah!" she said. "Faked you out, mommy!"