Little Pimento is stuck.
Not that she can't move herself around, because the rolling and scooching is surprisingly fast and effective when she wants to get across the living room to dump the dog's toy basket and chew on his (apparently) much better rubber toys. But she wants to do SO! MUCH! MORE!
We schlepped up to the play area at the mall today to meet some friends for a little air-conditioned physical activity, and Pimento was not satisfied to be prone while her big sis jumped and clambered on everything in sight. No, I was quickly drafted to play the role of body support while she drunkenly stomped around the padded floor, greeting everyone with a proud, open-mouthed grin.
Which is especially adorable with her three teeth-- the two prominent bottom incisors and one little bud of an incisor on her top left, thereby gaining another nickname from me: Fang.
I could handle my hunched-over walking-assistant duties for a few minutes at a time before lowering her to the floor for more crawling practice. She's very good at push-ups and will roll to one side with a provocative leg-extension and a come-hither gaze, usually followed by some bodily emission to remind you of why babies are not sexy. Cute, yes. Sexy, no.
Tonight, the mobility-quest continued with some visible hip-lifts as part of the push-ups. She's trying so hard! I know we're not far from full-on crawling, and I have to admit, I'm a little scared. As much as I want her to learn something new, I'm in no rush to endlessly chase her from room to room. Time to install the baby gates!
Showing posts with label skills. Show all posts
Showing posts with label skills. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Monday, May 9, 2011
How do I know she's growing up?
Peach is four now.
Having had a recent birthday, there are nevertheless very few stark benchmarks that come with her new age. As expected, most of her development has been gradual and therefore difficult to pinpoint. Which is why I'm amazed to notice these pinpointable changes.
She rides a bike.
That is, she rode a brand new, lovingly team-Stein-assembled Disney Princess birthday bike (with training wheels! and a seat for a doll/stuffed animal! and a handlebar pouch for snacks!) several times on successive days, until she almost fell off one too many times while navigating the uneven turn from our driveway onto the front walk. Now she wants to ride her tricycle again. We might try again tomorrow, fully strapped with the knee and elbow pads that came with her 3rd birthday Disney Princess rollerskates. That first day, when she jumped right on and took to it like a fish to water, Daddy and I co-marveled at how tiny she looked perched atop her shiny new ride. A one-block trek was punctuated with multiple stops for snacks (from the princess pouch, of course), inspecting ants, and picking dandelions.
Her ponies are no longer just the factory-labeled characters.
They are free to be Mommy or Daddy, requesting help from the other to "get the water out of the trunk" [of the car], much like the real-life counterparts. A "little sister" character is now common in her cast, too, usually being denied the use of a tiara or other personal item belonging to either Mommy or the big sister.
What really knocked me out, though, is the skill she flaunted today.
She can craft familiar animals from playdough. She's been squeezing and rolling it proficiently for over a year, including some exploration with various plastic apparatuses and molds to make abstract and food-like shapes, but the independent combination of basic shapes to form animals (and even a fairly recognizable pink/purple Tinker Bell) blows me away. True, she's basing her creations on the included illustrated instructions (from a Crayola Model Magic Pop-a-Dot kit with kangaroo/platypus options), but her ability to translate those flat images into a three-dimensional creation seems like a disproportionately advanced skill. Maybe it's just Mommy pride.
Like the pride I feel every time she requests and eats a green salad.
I still haven't completely mastered that skill.
Having had a recent birthday, there are nevertheless very few stark benchmarks that come with her new age. As expected, most of her development has been gradual and therefore difficult to pinpoint. Which is why I'm amazed to notice these pinpointable changes.
She rides a bike.
That is, she rode a brand new, lovingly team-Stein-assembled Disney Princess birthday bike (with training wheels! and a seat for a doll/stuffed animal! and a handlebar pouch for snacks!) several times on successive days, until she almost fell off one too many times while navigating the uneven turn from our driveway onto the front walk. Now she wants to ride her tricycle again. We might try again tomorrow, fully strapped with the knee and elbow pads that came with her 3rd birthday Disney Princess rollerskates. That first day, when she jumped right on and took to it like a fish to water, Daddy and I co-marveled at how tiny she looked perched atop her shiny new ride. A one-block trek was punctuated with multiple stops for snacks (from the princess pouch, of course), inspecting ants, and picking dandelions.
Her ponies are no longer just the factory-labeled characters.
They are free to be Mommy or Daddy, requesting help from the other to "get the water out of the trunk" [of the car], much like the real-life counterparts. A "little sister" character is now common in her cast, too, usually being denied the use of a tiara or other personal item belonging to either Mommy or the big sister.
What really knocked me out, though, is the skill she flaunted today.
She can craft familiar animals from playdough. She's been squeezing and rolling it proficiently for over a year, including some exploration with various plastic apparatuses and molds to make abstract and food-like shapes, but the independent combination of basic shapes to form animals (and even a fairly recognizable pink/purple Tinker Bell) blows me away. True, she's basing her creations on the included illustrated instructions (from a Crayola Model Magic Pop-a-Dot kit with kangaroo/platypus options), but her ability to translate those flat images into a three-dimensional creation seems like a disproportionately advanced skill. Maybe it's just Mommy pride.
Like the pride I feel every time she requests and eats a green salad.
I still haven't completely mastered that skill.
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