Zo, apparently doesn’t care for milestones. Which is quite an annoyance for her mother, who ODs on internet and its sea of gyan about ‘what should be happening’ when. But not our Zo.
If I look at the entry before last, I seem to be crowing to the blog world about how Zo has discovered that there is life beyond lying in one place, and that motion can be achieved with bed-sheets for support, and head for a propeller. Yes, that was on the 20th last month. Between then and now, in the 3 weeks that have passed, here is a quick summary of what she’s accomplished
1. Fallen off the bed, face down, and caused Mumma to run home from work, to be greeted with a large grin, albeit with a tiny red bruise on her cheek
2. Discovered crawling. FAST. On the bed, on the floor, across rooms, and mostly to the shoes, to the dustbins, to the floor mats, with a vengeance and just one plan of action – ‘Let me put that in my mouth.’
3. Discovered her love for sitting. Which is nice, because I for one would have been bored of lying around all the time. Sitting would mean more things to reach out to, and hence, more things to ‘put in the mouth.’
4. Gotten over her love for sitting, and moving on to standing. Yessir, we now hold onto anything in sight and pull ourselves up. ‘Anything’ could range from the sides of the crib (to stand in it), to Mumma’s hair (to stand on her hip/stomach depending on the angle)
5. Fallen off the crib, headlong, because no one dreamt she would stand and make such an adventurous attempt within 3-4 days of just about sitting. Thankfully, Mumma and Papa were right next to her, so Papa did a dive and a catch, and all Mumma got to see was an upside down baby in Papa’s hands. Yes, the heart is still functioning. Surprising, I know.
6. Walking inside the crib, with crib rails for support. So now we are put in one corner of the crib, but we choose to slowly make our way to the other end and the try to reach the nearest breakable item. To put it in our mouth.
7. Discovered power. The ring-teether, which trust me, is quite a sturdy bunch of rings, and takes even me some effort to detach from one another, was ripped into two with a single tug. The rattler is not shaken in isolation, because that is not loud enough. Instead, it is banged on the floor, the bed, the walls, and if all these are not available, on Mumma’s knee, which by the way, is still hurting.
Apart from this, I have decided that this girl has taken it upon herself to ensure that I have regular panic attacks. So a couple of nights ago, Zo was asleep on the bed between us (after the short stint in the crib). For some vague reason, I woke up all of a sudden, and there was no Zo next to me. I looked around in whatever light was available, but she was just not there. Before I could scream (because that is what I do in these situations), I heard a whimper. I look towards the Dude’s feet (his legs were curled up) and there was our mighty Zo, at the bed’s edge, on her fours, nibbling at his Laptop bag kept on the floor (it’s top reached the bed). Seriously. And the whimper was merely a hi to Mumma. So she whimpered, smiled, and went back to her nibbling. This, at 4 in the morning. If The Dude had decided to stretch his legs at any time, wait, I would rather not think about it.
And also, this one time when Zo and me were sleeping very soundly , and The Dude left for the gym. I woke up to a soft thud, and once again, no Zo. I look down the other end of the bed, and there was my baby, on the wooden floor, along with a pillow, her sheet, and her bottle , which is what I am assuming she was reaching out for, you know for a drink of water without wanting to wake up Mumma for it. Needless to say, if The Dude leaves now, we move with the bedding to the floor. And on the very few days that Mumma and Papa decide to sleep beyond 6, Zo ensures that she wakes up bright and happy, quietly moves to her Papa’s head , sits next to it, and then wake him up with a shower of, wait for it, punches. Poor Papa has actually learnt to sleep through this as well.
In short, Zo is proving to be as mischievous, and as bratty as I always thought my baby would be. Which is fun, and SO frigging scary. I love it when I get back from work and call to her, and she comes crawling, falling, climbing, jumping across pillows, and sheets and feet, and shoes without even slightly bothering about the laws of physics, or general sense. Or when she laughs her little laugh when I narrate my very duh animal sounds rhyme-like-thing to her, but only for ‘birds go cheep-cheep’ and ‘Cats go Meow-Meow’, dogs, ducks and cows be damned. And when she screams herself hoarse for no apparent reason , and we have a little screaming competition between the two of us, which she obviously wins, because no human can keep screaming for such a long time.
And when we just sit in the breeze every evening in the kids play area, she with her eyes round in amazement, staring at the noisy kids and all the colors around. And me, with my arms around her, my nose buried in her soft, soft hair, wondering how fast time seems to be passing.
Happy 7th month little one. I know there is a lot to look forward to, but every time I look back at the days gone by, I cannot help but miss them already.