Peek-a-Boo Problems...

Am I supposed to be playing Peek-a-Boo? Like did I miss some parenting memo that says I need to play that particular game? I ask only because I am cruising the CDC webpage for Development Milestones (making myself into a neurotic freak is a hobby I excel at) and Delilah should be playing Peek-a-Boo. Except I can’t recall that I have ever played such a game with her. Could it be ingrained in her somewhere, like breathing or swallowing?

I don’t know why I am getting so upset because she doesn’t do one little thing. I mean, she does sign language and stands on her own, so obviously she isn’t a mini-moron (besides having a penchant for eating paper and knitting stitch markers). Of course she also doesn’t point at things she wants (she is very grabby though), there are no favorite toys (besides “ones that light up”), and she would be the easiest kid in the world to kidnap because she will go to anyone (seriously there is no Stranger-Danger Fright in her anywhere).

In my crazier moments I am convinced that she is going to grow up to be a serial killer because she got solid food before 6 months. Obviously I need some perspective. I know all kids do things at their own rate, but this is the only kid I have been up close and personal with; therefore, I have not to compare and contrast her to.  But every time I hear a mom of a similar aged child make a remark about what little Jr. has been doing I can’t help but feel judged. It’s like their babies are doing long division and mine is eating cat hair. To be fair, if her mother wasn’t such an abysmal housekeeper then she wouldn’t be able to find cat hair in such abundance unless she physically ripped it off the cat (which she also does, poor guys…).

What I should really be focusing on is that she is going to become a serial killer because we finally adopted the Cry It Out method when it came to sleep (when I say adopted, I mean that Jason finally brought to my attention that all I am teaching her is that if she starts throwing a fit then mom will come back). Apparently this is going to rot her brain and make her toenails fall off because it is the most inhumane and cruel form of sleep training out there (which on the whole makes no sense to me, why on earth do you need to be trained on how to sleep? Every animal in the world sleeps, you don’t see momma hippos teaching baby hippos how to sleep. I think it’s like having to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, no matter how bad you don’t want to do it, eventually you are going to get your ass up and pee). To listen to some people talk, you would think that letting your kid throw a fit because they are tired but don’t want to sleep is right up there with water boarding. But results don’t lie, and I have a 9 month old that has been sleeping 12-14 hours straight since she was 4 months old, thank you very much.

Dear Delilah...

Dear Delilah,

You are almost 9 months old! You have almost been outside as long as you were inside. And I continue to find you to be the most fascinating little thing in my whole world. You do so many things that strike me as strange, but then I realize that you are just trying to figure out what kind of person you will be. You crawled across the floor to me the other day, but instead of giving me a sloppy, wet kiss, you bit my left eyebrow. You are very into biting these days, and boy does it hurt. They have started calling you “The Shark” at daycare. You have seven teeth coming in now, and you have such a gap between the top two. You look just like I did, with a big “Cattle Gap” up front. I am guessing that braces are going to be in your future.

You now get into even more stuff, which I didn’t think was possible. I have barriers set up all around the living room, trying to keep you contained and away from the heaters, but I am sure it is only a matter of time before you figure out how to launch yourself over them. The trouble with having a smart kid, is that they will eventually outsmart you. You love to do your sprint crawl away from me, straight towards the dog’s water bowl so you can splash your hands in it. And last night I had to dig cat food out of your mouth while you screamed in protest and the cats looked at me like something horrible was happening.

Speaking of the cats, you said your first word when Weasely rubbed against your hand. Plain as day you said “kitty”. I can’t get you to repeat it, so it may have just been a coincidence. You do still say “Da da da “ all the time, and even when I sit in front of you on the floor and say “Ma ma” you still look me dead in the eye and say “Da da”.

You got to bed so early still, so I go in and make sure you are all covered up before I go upstairs. Sometimes, I sit in the rocking chair next to your crib and watch you for a few minutes. You do the funniest things in your sleep. Last night you got up on your hands and knees and rocked back and forth four times before laying back down and putting your fingers in your mouth. I went upstairs and told Daddy and he said “Oh yeah, you do that all the time”. Daddy thinks he is very funny…

Tomorrow they are lighting the town’s Christmas tree at 6pm and I hope you are awake to see it. I am sure I will bundle you up in your little snow suit and drag you down there so you can see.

I love you more than Twizzlers and Jane Austen,

Mom