Wednesday, March 17, 2010


It occurs to me that even with all the picture-posting and chatting about what she does, I may not have given a clear picture of who Willow is.  Which, to be fair, isn't really my fault, since the person of Willow has only recently started to emerge.  But here we go.

  • She loves to spit.  Go "tthhhhhbbbbt!" like the envelope that bore Mrs. Weasley's howler in The Chamber of Secrets (at least I think it was The Chamber of Secrets, and I'm frankly too lazy to look it up) and Willow will "tthhhhbbbbt!" right back at you.  A lot.  I've decided she thinks it's how humans communicate love and affection, since we're all so adoring at each other when we're doing it.  
  • She also loves to cry.  As a baby who has been accused of everything from gas to colic to very early teeth (partly indicated by all the drool), she cries a lot.  And she cries at the least helpful times.  We went to visit my mom after her mother died, and guess who Willow would shriek at whenever there was the threat of holding, though she was happy enough with everybody else holding her?  Yep.  Ungrateful child.  Similarly, with very rare exceptions, she won't let either Toaster or RockNoodle hold her.  At all.  Toaster has just stopped asking, since what's the point, and he'll just coo at Willow and play with her while Dave or I are holding her.  But RockNoodle asks to hold her every day, and every day I say yes, because honestly, this is her little sister, and who would want to stand in the way of the love there?  And then I try to convince RockNoodle that yes, there is indeed love there, even as I take the suddenly screaming baby out of her lap.  The good thing about all the crying is that I know, without a doubt, that if something is bothering her, she'll let me know.  She cries at the least little irritation, so if she were too cold or too hot or if something were bent the wrong way, whatever--I don't have to wonder.  She'll cry.
  • She smiles and laughs (and has finally started to come around to the concept of tickling and tummy blowing as fun things!  Before they were just strange things her mother did and provoked only reproving stares).  But she's only good for smiling and chatting with coos and gurgles for about twenty minutes, and then they're all used up.  The smile batteries are dead, and you'll have to let them recharge for about five hours before they'll be back up and running.
  • But on the other hand, she loves doing new things (new things that don't involve being on her tummy, that is.  Tummy Time is Time of Torture).  She recently figured out how to sit up (though she needs a little help with the getting there and the balancing), and now it's all she wants to do.  Pull her up, sit her up, and she'll want to do this for hours.  She loves looking at books, and I'm convinced is even trying to turn the pages, though she needs a little encouragement for that.  
  • She is emphatically not interested in being put in her bouncer seat while you eat or being held quietly while you try to carry on a conversation.  She prefers that you make eye contact with her, and talk to her, and she would like to be the one eating, thank you very much.

There are lots of other things she does that I find entirely fascinating, but it all sums up to say that I believe this is a baby who knows what she wants and doesn't hesitate to do her very best to get it.  She knows how to have a good time, and is intent on having that good time whenever possible.  She is curious about new things, and trusting of new situations, but will extend that trust only so far--she trusts what she sees and experiences more than whatever nonsense our reassuring voices are telling her.  She is impatient to communicate and is far more interested in interacting with the world around her than simply observing it.  She is affectionate and happy (for the most part) but on her own terms, and only when she's really feeling it. 

Before I got pregnant, Dave and I used to joke that maybe we shouldn't have a kid, because I'm really only interested in children from when they're about three months old to five months old, and that's a pretty brief window to hang eighteen years of time, expense, and energy on.  But the reality is (thankfully!) different, and I not only think every age is the best age, but here we are entering that window and I can't wait for her to get older and experience new things, and get to know herself better.  I can't wait to get to know her better.

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