Maya, Month Six

This month…oh, this was the month of months my baby girl. This month you crawled. First you got up on all fours — that was a big step. Then you wildly rocked back and forth, trying to make yourself go. I could see the wheels turning in your head: “Go! Go, I said….now! Now! Why won’t it go…..(wailing, dissolving in tears)” I watched you do this because it is how I feel about getting up every single morning, and I could see that pain, that frustration, that WHY WON’T MY BODY DO WHAT I WANT IT TO that I feel whenever I try to dance or do anything graceful. And I thought, wow. That is one stubborn baby, because after a little comfort (boobie) you would want to get down so you could rock furiously back and forth all over again.

It was the hands, Maya. You needed to move your hands. You would get both feet on the ground and spin like there’s no tomorrow but you couldn’t figure out that crawling required hands. I mean, mommy and daddy move, and don’t use their hands. What’s the deal here? And then, one day, I got a frantic call from Marti in the other room. “Missy, come here! She moved her hand!” and lo and behold the time hath cometh, and it was good, and the hands hath moved. And so the downward descent begins. Next you will be flipping me the bird and flouncing out of my house, midriff showing, in a pair of stilletto heels.

Now you crawl with a peg leg — on one knee and one foot. I might be saying this because I gave birth to you, but it’s the cutest thing on the planet, other than you patting me and making cooing sounds. Eat your heart out world, this baby is mine.

My house is now, officially, a death trap for you, my dear daughter. Ben trails small, ingestible items like breadcrumbs throughout the house, which makes you so extremely happy. You spend hours crawling around now, finding pennies (blocked trachea) and bits of wire (permeated intestinal tract), colored paper (lead poisoning) and tape (escherida coli, random bacteria).

It’s still pretty cute, though.

Oh, and have I mentioned that you have totally captivated your daddy? That he worships you and holds you and doesn’t even like to share? I would be jealous except it gives me more time to sleep. And since you started trying to cut teeth, sleep is my friend, my long, lost friend.

On to month seven.

Here’s some video of you, swordfighting with your brother, that I stole from your daddy’s site. This is precrawling, but as you can see, you are already a real fighter. I love you, baby girl. You are the best thing ever.