Monday, November 1, 2010

The Fidg at 8 Months

Mummy and Fidg on Halloween
Today you are eight months old. Eight!  That's two-thirds of a year.  That's really very grown-up!  I met the mother of four-month-old twins over the weekend.  She asked what 8 months is like. It's really fun, I said. Almost protectively, she protested that 4 months was fun, too.  I didn't really know what to say, but thought to myself, well, then you're in luck!  But 8 months is grand.  You're learning new things so quickly that we almost don't notice.

You're way past sitting on your own now.  You're crawling now.  Sometimes you pant from all the effort. Sometimes you squeal in delight at being able to roam around on your own - or almost your own since we don't let you get out of our sight. Usually.  Last week, you crawled to meet me as I came in the door - that was pretty cute.

You can pull yourself up on things now - though the squishy, tall couches don't help your efforts. The lower, firm coffee table is good, but then again, has some significant drawbacks.  You're good at getting one hand up there and then the other, then you walk up closer on your knees (when you remember that you have to do that), and then, UP! you go.  You seem very proud of the accomplishment every time you hoist yourself up.  Sometimes we help you, though. And you still do a sort of downward-dog thing on the floor, indicating that you'd like to just stand without holding on to anything at all.

Sometimes - a lot of times - you fall down. Sometimes you cry - big, choking, sobs over a bonked head or nose or just the surprise of the sudden closeness of the floor or wall.  Sometimes you don't cry - you just keep trying.

Also - you wave now.  We weren't sure it was really waving, but we think now that it most certainly is.  A little jerky and sometimes resembling the queen's come-this-way wave - but a wave for sure.  That's communication and it's amazing to watch it develop.  You wave and you still hold your little arms up when you need rescuing from the floor or from the exersaucer or bouncy thing.

You've done two rounds of swim classes now.  Daddy says you love it. I've only watched you once.  You looked pretty serious, but there was also a lot of splashing around.

Yesterday was Halloween and you were several kinds of giraffe and a shark.  We took  you across to the neighbor's to trick-or-treat and selected a bag of Lemonheads for you because of it's crinkly bag and because your mom has fond memories of Lemonheads from summer camp.  You chomped on the bag of candy all the way home and even agreed to pose on the lawn for a few photos.

You've also now been to your first art museum - the newly expanded Crocker here in Sacramento.  Looking at art with you reminded me that I miss art and don't have enough of it in my life.  I suppose arts and crafts will be coming soon, won't they.  It won't be long now until finger painting and crayons and a fridge covered in fidg designs.  Looking at art with you made me see art in a new way.  Never one for oils in the past, suddenly the thick swirls of pigment seemed extraordinary - demanding to be touched by small fingers, even though it's not allowed.  The colors and lines and geometry or chaos of modern art also seemed custom made to make you wonder and to make me wonder at you.

Trite sentiment or not: I've never been terribly creative when it comes to the visual arts (or any arts, probably).  But you're the best thing I've ever made.

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