mobile to the extent she is a danger to herself or others

Tallulah can crawl. At a mere 7 months.

She had been thinking about it for a month. Rocking on all fours and scooting backwards. She was even doing this weird little thing I called knuckle walking, where she was standing up but with her hands touching the ground and trying to move around. Then after weeks of anticipation she began to crawl. Of course, we missed it. We were at Niko Nikos with some old friends. But my mom (who stayed with us for a week as part of the 3 post partum weeks she owes me now that her ankle is somewhat healed) called to fill us in on the magical details.

The next day we tried to coax her into it again, but as is the way that is baby-- no dice. So we didn't see it for a few more days. When we did see it, I would notice that she herself looked amazed, kind of like "wow, check it out!"

And then came the monolith moment of realization: crawling can get me where I want to go. Cue the music from 2001 space odessey.

Shortly followed by the mom moment of realization as she crawled over to me and pulled up on my pants leg: "oh shit. Crawling can get her where she wants to go."

Cue some kind of music that conveys dread at the thought of having to keep all the little choking hazards off the floor.

spring break 2011

The Magic Wand




Calling for geese with grandpa




Charlotte the Snail

Little Kiss

Sprinkler Magic

happy reunion

I was tired, weary actually, so spring break found us at grandma and grandpa's house, which meant Annabelle's days went something like this: Wake up late, at about 8:00, get dressed, head to the big house, eat a hearty breakfast of some kind of pork product, and then time to go outside and get on the swing. But since grandpa has not taken his shower, she has to wait patiently and ride her bike or scooter. When he finally comes out, she gets on the swing for about an hour. Grandpa pushes her and talks to his next door neighbor, who by this time has mosied on over for gossip and an 11:00 beer. Then she is done with the swing and gets in the sandbox. She finds a snail, which we kept as a pet, and kept alive, I might add, for an entire week. She names the snail Charlotte and goes about finding plants and a suitable place for him/her to live. Then we eat lunch and watch the birds at the bird feeder outside the kitchen window. Then more swing, bike, scooter, with a break for some shop time with my dad, where they drill holes into stuff. Then she comes inside and makes a mess or paints herself with markers which causes my mom to shoo her outside for a run through the sprinkler. Then more swing time or a trip down to the river to call the geese. Then supper, and a bath. Then we head over to the little house and she sits out on the back porch to watch the stars come out and listen to the sound of the night on my mom's lap while my mom tells her stories. Then we work on our Lenten project which is a prayer cross, where every night we tear out a piece of construction paper and write down the name of someone we want to pray for. I placed behind my mom and auntie and uncle dale and Johnathan the Lion at the Houston zoo but ahead of grandma's cats and papa, so I am feeling pretty good.

Tallulah's day goes like this: eat, happy, put stuff in mouth, suddenly and for no reason decide she is pissed, screams f0r what seems like an eternity, then nap. Repeat until 7 p.m. then sleep till midnight and then wake up every three hours.

My day goes like this: corral Annabelle, make sure the baby doesn't swallow leaves, nurse the baby, play with baby, curse baby, fuss at mom for fussing at me for letting the baby cry it out. repeat.

I really didn't want to come home, but on Thursday Annabelle announced that she missed her dad and wanted to go home immediately, because she "can't live without papa."

Which is just as it should be.

Tallulah Rose

Tallulah Rose is a peaceful child, except when she is angry. She starts out so politely, moving her arms and legs, then makes a few little noises, then we graduate to a quiet cry, then a loud one, then a scream and then what I like to call the silent scream of rage. It is unfortunate, but she gets to the silent scream of rage because she is the second child, and is often put aside in order for me to cook, clean or deal with an almost three year old who has taken to ordering me about like she is a grumpy, old, overweight person on a little rascal from Porter and I am a waitress at the Golden Corral. But she is patient, because she is the second child and does make her initial demands in a very polite manner.

Because she is the second child she lives in a bassinet in our room. She has no real nursery, no table made by her grandpa,chairs made by her great grandmother, and certainly not 5 handmade baby quilts--just a really cute corner of the guestroom, that I can't bring myself to put her in, because it is so far away and because she is the second child, my last baby, she can stay in our room for as long as she fits in the bassinet (perhaps longer if I can convince H to bring the crib downstairs.)

Because she is the last baby, she does not have to cry herself to sleep. The first one needed to learn to sleep on her own, before I went back to work and I was very Tiger Mom about it, putting her in the crib and walking off to the living room and where H and I would huddle together, and try to reassure ourselves we were doing the right thing while we listened to her cry until she stopped. But not my last baby. My last baby has been cuddled and coddled and pacified and nursed to sleep, and now just drifts off on her own with nary a tear.

She is a very social child and will fuss if she is in a room by herself. She likes to be part of the ruckus, especially where her sister is. She loves her sister and has a special smile reserved just for Annabelle. And whenever I grouse about how it isn't fair to her about the nursery, the lack of picture taking, grandma time, and attention in general she gets, Hyphen will say in that way he sometimes has of making everything better "yes, that is true, but she has something that Annabelle never had, she has a big sister who loves her."

My last baby gave me my most favorite Christmas present, a real true social smile. She was only a month old. Annabelle didn't smile until she was two months old, and then did it just once and for Hyphen, not me. Tallulah smiles and coos all the time (except during the silent scream of rage) for anyone who looks at her, but especially for me. She can also roll over from front to back and back to front. Just like Annabelle, when she is excited about something, she kicks her legs about, but Annabelle didn't start doing this until she was about 5 months old.

And the jury is still out on who she looks like. About half say Hyphen and Annabelle, the other half say me. Personally, I think that when she smiles and lifts her eyebrows, she looks like Jack Nicholson, which causes me to say "come out, come out, where ever you are," but I am a little crazy from lack of sleep.

But no matter, she is Tallulah Rose, my second child, my last baby, who makes her own way in this world, and in my heart.