I wouldn’t be at all surprised if this girl learns how to walk before she can crawl. She doesn’t last long sitting on our laps before she decides that she wants to stand. She’ll extend her legs, throw up her hands, arch her back, and whine until we hold her in the standing position. Her balance is of course terrible, but she’ll wobble her little body around with a huge gummy smile on her face, loving life from her new perspective.
She’s a go-getter, this one, lasting no longer than 15 minutes before she’s ready to move on to a new activity. Just yesterday I finally got her to sit still for an extended period of time on my lap, but I had to be rocking her in the rocking chair while she chewed on a teething ring and we sang along to her “Farmer in the Dell” sing-along over and over and (regrettably) over again. I’m constantly getting a whiff of urp from the spit-up she’s added to my shoulder almost hourly because she won’t sit still long enough to keep her milk down. Elements of this world make her so excited that she literally cannot contain herself, and my shirts have stains that prove it.
I love her eagerness for action and adventure. And I love her need to explore, examine, and appreciate all the intricate details of her little world, even if every one of those details somehow manages to end up in her mouth.
But then again, to be so infatuated with the world that you cannot help but want to taste it. That, on some level, is kind of inspiring.