A Few Small Steps and a Frozen Pizza

The last few days have brought more joy in Punky's development...a few small steps on her own.  She was playing by the basket chair, going around in circles as usual.  I sat on the stool just two feet from her.  Suddenly she turned toward me, let go of the chair, and took two small steps to fall into my arms. 

We have been trying to encourage her to be brave enough to do it for a while now.  In truth, I am so surprised it is taking this long.  She was crawling at six months, and I fully expected her to walk by about nine months.  Sometimes she forgets herself and she'll stand up in the middle of the room, with a toy in each hand.  She balances fine until she realizes she's not holding onto anything.  In a split second, a look of panic appears and she promptly goes down on her hiney.

I've also heard some new words this week.  Cold, bear, and diaper are three that come to mind.  She is mainly still stuck on "car" and "good girl" though.  And "mama mama mama" of course. 

On Sunday, we caved and took her out shopping.  We were set on keeping her out of public unless absolutely necessary with the flu outbreak still looming, but she's been cooped up in the house for a few weeks now and we knew she needed to get out for a bit.

I put her in her stroller instead of a shopping cart, thinking it would keep her further away from people and their germs, but she got antsy when I stopped to look at something so I carried her for a while.  

We met up with her dad in the frozen food section (he always does the grocery shopping) and I handed her over to him to give my arms a break.  He reached in a freezer to grab a pizza, and when he turned to back out and close the door, somehow he managed to clonk Punky in the head with the frozen pizza.

She didn't cry; she was sure startled though and she gave him a look that said, "What the hell, Dad?"  He thought he didn't hit her with it, but the red spot that appeared on her forehead told the story loud and clear.  Poor kid.  Like she doesn't bang her head enough on her own.  Geez.  I know, who am I to judge?  I banged her head on the arm of the rocker when she was only about a month old...and on the changing table two weeks later... 

Punky's new obsession with putting stuff "in" has led to some funny discoveries.  I found about six books stuffed in the drawer with her socks.  Her new tube of A&D ointment was buried in a drawer of hats.  I opened one kitchen cabinet and a ball rolled out at me.  In a kitchen drawer, yet another toy.  

It took me over a half hour to track down her turtle thermometer when I wanted to give her a bath the other night.  I finally found it in her toy box...the third time I looked there.  It is usually in a kitchen cabinet, but now I moved it where she can't find it.  I take scalding hot showers and I don't trust myself to prepare her bath without it.  The water always feels too cold for me when the turtle shows it's perfect.  Without the thermometer I'd surely burn her little toosh.

We put safety locks on the cabinets she shouldn't get into, but I can't see locking everything up on her.  She is curious and loves to explore.  As long as there's nothing unsafe for her to touch, I can't see the harm in letting her discover things, even if it means putting the dish towels back in the drawer, restacking the plastic containers on the shelf, and gathering up recipe cards a hundred times a day.

Sometimes when I empty a diaper box, I let her play with it for a while.  This weekend, I put her in it and pulled it back and forth across the living room.  Big mistake.  She absolutely loves it; my lower back absolutely hates it.  Mama needs to think before inventing these new games. 

This weekend we are heading home for the holiday.  Well, actually after the holiday.  He has to work, third shift nonetheless, so we are traveling Friday morning.  We'll eat Thanksgiving dinner with his family on Thursday.  It's my favorite meal of the year and now that Punky is eating more table food I know she'll love it, too.  

I plan to enjoy my four day weekend.  Then the rush is on for December.  Christmas shopping and decorating to do, a first birthday party to plan...Only five more weeks until my beautiful baby reaches the one year mark.  I'm sure I'll be reliving the last few weeks of my pregnancy as that date draws near and I'll probably cry my eyes out on her birthday.

There were points in my life when time seemed to stand still.  I was so unhappy and days seemed to drag on and on...  Now, when I want to enjoy every single moment forever, time is flying.  Life's not fair, is it?