Dear Sophie,
The past two months have all been about greater mobility for you. You've gone from sitting in place for the majority of time, occasionally rolling towards an interesting flash of color that has captured your eye, to constant on-the-go movement. You are a master crawler and climber, and you scamper out of your room whenever we leave your door open. You are very interested in the bathroom, perhaps because we don't let you explore that territory very often. You're also very keen on the piles of electrical cords coiled underneath the computer desk. You seem to think there is no greater pleasure than picking up an extension cord with your grubby little hands, placing it in your mouth and biting down.
Speaking of biting, you have sprouted a mouthful of teeth almost overnight. Eight new teeth to be exact. Teething has been a little painful but you haven't let it slow you down. In fact, you've grown into a champion eater, which is pretty funny because you remain in the tenth percentile on the baby growth chart. You have been known on occasion to down two pancakes, half a banana, peas and corn puffs all in one sitting. If your speedy metabolism keeps up, you will be one lucky girl indeed!
You are beginning to communicate and interact with people with a little more intention. You love to pull Daddy's glasses off of his face, then return them to him when he asks. You pause whenever Mommy says "no" sternly, although you generally return to the forbidden activity immediately afterwards. You're starting to lift your arms upwards when you want to be picked up, which isn't very often, because you'd much rather be off exploring the world by yourself.
Your favorite thing to do at the moment is to pull yourself upright into a standing position. You do this on the porch.
On the bookshelf in your room.
On the window ledge.
You'll stand there as long as you can, grinning our way whenever we come near, so proud of yourself.
And although babies have been pulling themselves up since the dawn of time, we're pretty darn proud of you too.
Sophie's weekend in New York was pretty magical, birthday party aside. She was lovely on the plane trip, despite a three hour drive to the airport and a two-legged itinerary. On Friday, we all woke up late, then lunched in Union Square on our way to Carl's favorite destination in all of Manhattan: The Strand (18 miles of books, for you non-New Yorkers). After the bookstore, we met Martha and Bryan for dinner at Penelope's in Grammercy Park, then I went to the Women's Project, baby in tow, while everybody else went to see Patrick Stewart in Macbeth on Broadway (I was a little jealous, I admit). That night, as Carl, Sophie and I slept in the same room, the bedroom window casting stripes of light and shadow across the bed, I thought how beautiful and fragile it all is: To sleep in the city with my love and my baby, while outside the taxi cabs flick their vacancy lights on and off again.
I returned to Hays to discover that my Mother, superwoman that she is, had planted a lovely flower garden in my front yard while taking care of Sophie. She adorned the front steps with charming planters filled with geraniums, which Sophie immediately tried to eat. It's hard to beat the South in the springtime, with all that luscious, burgeoning color: azaleas, daffodils, dogwoods, magnolias, tulips, you name it. Yet after a long, gray, treeless winter on the plains, the bright green fields and flowering redbud trees seem equally magnificent.
