Only after a little more than a month, Daphne is already a full-fledged walker. She refused to crawl unless when she's rushing at something (like the bathroom, for example, when the door is ajar and she spots us going towards it with the intent to close it from the corner of her eye) and she knows she won't be able to reach it even if she walked her fastest.
I took her to the park for the first time. And I totally forgot to bring along the camera (jeez, you'd think that will all the time I took researching to find the perfect videorecorder and the money I spent on it, I'd use it more often, huh). How was I supposed to know who excited she'd be? How was I supposed to know how cute she'd look walking towards other children, trying to engage them with her limited vocabulary of grunts and squeals? How would I know that she would learn how to take her first step UP during her first park visit? I should have known. Jeez. Well, yes, she did all that and more. She loves walking. I love that she loves walking. She's amazing. It was actually after this first playground visit that she decided to never crawl again (except when lunging towards an open bathroom).
This past weekend, Emmanuel, Daphne, Grace, Genevieve (Emmanuel's sister), and I went to the Getty. They had an exhibition on Courbet which none of us really had any interest in, except, maybe Grace. Emmanuel indulged his love of impressionist and baroque paintings, while I just ate everything up. I was really touched when observing Emmanuel explain things to his sister. He's so patient and thorough and kind. He explained about every single thing we saw to her--from ancient manuscipts to Rococo furniture. It was endearing. I could imagine him doing the same things with Daphne one day. Grace kept whispering, "There are naked people," whenever we happened upon a nude painting and sculpture. It was pretty funny.
Daphne is very friendly and good-natured. She hardly ever cries or whines. She has actually begun to sort of whining, especially for things that she really shouldn't be playing with or eating, but I am firm. After about 3 seconds of her faux crying, her attention is usually diverted elsewhere. I don't know the cause of her good-naturedness. It could be in her genes. Who knows. I'd like to think it's the way I've raised her thus far. I've tried to make sure to stop everything I'm doing, within reason, to fulfill her necessary baby-needs. If she wants to breastfeed, I will quickly comply. If she wants to be held, I will hold her. I made sure that I held her as much as could when she was an infant. For about 3 months, it seemed to be the only thing I was doing. I'd wake up, put her in the NoJo and sway. Either that or plop her on a pillow on my lap and let her nurse. It's really hard those first couple of months. Just all a blur. Especially difficult when one does not know what to expect. I feel like now that I know what to expect, I could do it all with my eyes closed and my hands tied behind my back. It's really hard. I do remember telling myself when I felt like I couldn't take anymore baby-slinging or breastfeeding that I'd thank myself for it one day. For some reason, I knew deep-down inside, Daphne needed to be held nonstop. To not hold her, to not keep her close to me as much as I did would have been unnatural. She was encapsulated in my womb for 9 months, how could she immediately go from that to sleeping alone, being allowed to lay by heself for hours at a time or being fed through a hard, inanimate plastic nipple with milk meant for a calf?
So this is all. Forgive me, readers. I've been very delinquent in my posting. Forgive me, future adult Daphne--I have been very busy trying to engage you.
'Til next post.
