Ode to my baby–only 11 days late

I don’t plan for Spot Grace to be my last child, but for now she is my baby, and she is also my third child. Makes me think of Ender’s Game, and of the looks I imagine getting in some parts of the world when talking about my third. Not in Utah, of course. Spot was born on Friday the 13th last October, but the 13th part was probably not an omen since she was induced. Yes, an elective induction before I was enlightened about childbirth (my current enlightenment is purely theoretical, but I’m eager to make it actual).

A lot of Spot’s life in milestones and pictures has already been chronicled on this blog, so I’ll just recap a few of her recent ‘isms that make me want her to stay a baby forever, when I’m not wishing that they would all just leave home, already. A couple months ago, Spot would do a froggy swimmer’s kick whenever we held her up in the air. She stopped doing it, just when I was finally thinking of getting the video camera out. Trust me — it was adorable.

Now she does a great squirrel imitation, crawling rapidly across the floor then rearing up on her knees as she waves her hands in quick, abbreviated motions; I think her nose even twitches. Other times she does an emphatic hand bounce that reminds me of Wallace’s (from Wallace and Gromit) “Wensleydale?” cheese tick.

It’s time for weaning, but again I’m having a hard time with that, mostly because I’m lazy, and if I’m busy doing something else important (like reading) it’s too easy to just stick her on the breast instead of getting out food and utensils and the high chair. Spot’s serious, even at the breast. She picks at my clothes with restless hands and concentrates so hard, though now she also gets easily distracted.

I love the last feed of the day. I take her down while Sally and Susan play with their cousins, and we’re alone, and I know that soon we won’t share this anymore (she does have eight strong teeth, after all), and I squeeze her to me and squeeze her again before I lay her down.

Spot can say Ma-ma-ma, and she loves narrow, potentially eye-poking-out objects: spoon, forks, crayons and pens, though her favorite is toothbrushes. I like how she holds my arm tight when she rides on my hip, and how she lays her head on my shoulder when she really needs comfort, which is luckily (or not) pretty infrequent. She’s taken a few first steps — her first ever towards a chocolate peanut butter cookie. Smart girl.

From her birthday party. I had to smear some of the chocolate mousse cake onto her upper right cheek because she was, for once, not that dirty.