The "do it myself" era has begun. For better or for worse, the first culprit is food. She won't take anything from a spoon from me, except for a few bites to start off. Then she wants to just eat food off of her high chair tray. So we are really pushing the finger foods, but still, sometimes, we just put a mess o' mush on the tray and let her go to town. It's not a pretty sight, and it takes FOREVER for her to eat. But she's really getting the hang of this eating thing. Tonight for dinner she had potato cubes, cooked apple cubes, and ground beef with red and yellow peppers.
Along with "do it myself" comes "I don't want to." If she doesn't want her diaper changed, doesn't want to get in the car seat, or doesn't want lotion on after the bath - LOOK OUT! Hell hath no fury like a baby being mercilessly tortured by her parents. She'll twist herself right out from under the changing table strap and try to crawl away. In the car seat she shoves her hips up and stiffens her legs and refuses to sit, all the while screaming bloody murder. Post-bath lotion is hit or miss - I generally have to chase her around with the tub of Cetaphil and just slather it on whatever body parts happen to be within arms reach. I believe this is what is called a "spirited" child. What a lovely euphemism. Fortunately, with the exception of these few brief glimpses of Hyde, she's Jekyll by and large. They're both doing the biting though.
Child proofing has begun. We've still got a few more things to do, but thanks mostly to Pete, the living room is much safer now. Until she finds something we didn't think to Hana-proof....
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Oh, Dara, your writing is so funny--inspired by a funny, spirited child. Go, Hana, go. Love, Grandma
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