Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Free Range

OK, so maybe I did say that Hayden was able to put herself to sleep at nap time and at night. Maybe I was telling the truth at that particular time and maybe she did do that...for a whole 3 days or something. I had since went back to holding her until she fell asleep while sitting on the love seat in her room. Occasionally, she took a bottle while we sat there. We are trying to wean her off the bottle (and it's working, hell yeah!) so that isn't an option any longer. Not to mention the fact that she really couldn't care less about mama holding her any longer. She has been bitten by the independent bug. Now, at approximately 7:30-8:00 (new time) she is taken to her crib where she buzzes around and protests like an angry little bee, but only for a minute or so and then all is well and quiet.
In the past week Hayden has figured out how to go down a step, she conquered going up a step months ago, much to my dismay. Our house is surrounded by a wrap around porch, a porch being held together by a single nail, I shit you not. She has scarily teetered at the edge of the step down onto the sidewalk for several months now, not able to go down on her own. Frustration has mounted. Hers, not mine. She/I didn't realize that once she managed to get her little self down the step a whole new world was right in front of her pretty little face. A world full of dogs, rocks, sticks, daffodils, dogs, chickens, speaking of chickens...I went outside with her two days ago and she immediately goes to the step, sits down, swings her legs around and is off. I ran back inside for something and came back to find her hunched down fingering something brown on the sidewalk. Dirt? Mud? Oh no, to easy. Too clean. I look closer and yep, it has the telltale white coating that most chicken shit has. The shit that I've had the pleasure of seeing anyway (see:center picture at top of blog page). So, here is Hayden thoroughly enjoying her new discovery, rubbing her fingers together, swinging her arms around. I quickly smell her hand just to be sure, because you know, seeing it and recognizing it immediately isn't proof enough. I gag. She smiles. Chip hears me asking her if she likes to play with shit that has fallen from a yard bird and materializes with a few wet wipes to remedy the stinky situation. Save. This time.
I am 100% sure that shit like this will happen again, pun intended.
Quite the character, Hayden has taken to belly laughing often, and it is great. Her laugh has to be the sweetest, funniest thing I have heard in forever. I love, love, love it. When she is taking a bath I soap up my hands and attempt to clean the cheese from the wrinkle of skin we call her neck. The child can not take it. She laughs hysterically and for some reason is unable to hold her head up. I think she is attempting to get away from me but at the same time loves the feeling it gives her and so wants more mama more! Honestly, the whole thing makes me laugh pretty hard too. To have found her spot, her funny spot, is awesome.
Sneaky. She is that too. Now that she has free range of the yard she truly runs wild. She picks up a rock and studies it like she may be quizzed on it later. It then gets squeezed into her little palm until she thinks I am not looking. Then she inches her hand towards her mouth and slowly cuts her eyes to where I am. If I am looking at her she acts as if she is just merely swinging her arms, if I am not looking then she quickly inserts the rock into her mouth and goes about hunting another rock. Fun days ahead I tell you. Spring and summer right around the corner, a 1 year old that climbs up and down steps (and thinks it is the greatest thing since blueberries), throw in 10 rottweilers, 50 bajillion rocks and we have ourselves a heart attack on the horizon. Oh, can't wait.
Seriously though, this is going to be the best year yet! Bring on the 100 degree temperatures.

*I say that now, in 4 months I'll be cussing the heat and drought with a vengence.

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