Tuesday, May 10, 2011
I actually had to check the blog to figure out how old Madeline is today. Good thing I've got this thing, otherwise she might be able to fool me into thinking she's old enough to go bar hopping with that bad baby from down the hall.
Madeline has been playing games a lot this week. Last night, she cracked us up by initiating a game of peek-a-boo. She'd put a blanket over her head and then pull it off all by herself. Every time she found her way out from under the blanket, she'd laugh or squeal loudly at us.
She's trying to figure out how to go from lying down to sitting up without us helping her. She's almost there. She only needs to lightly hang on to one of our fingers to pull herself up.
We continue to be impressed by her "standing" skills. (In other words, we prop her up against the couch and oooh and ahhh at her ability to not instantly fall over.)
Yesterday morning, I found her lying on her tummy in her crib happily playing with her pacifier. This proves that both rolling and tummy time are becoming less scary for her. She looked like such a little kid propped up on her elbows, cooing contently to herself.
The most interesting new development is that Madeline gets upset over not getting her way. Crying is no longer reserved only for physical discomforts. She cries if we take away something she's chewing on. She cries if we don't look at her. She cries if we leave the room. She cries when I shut the door to the bathroom so that my giant orange jug and I can get some privacy. (I keep it around for sentimental value.)
It can be pretty heartbreaking watching her smiling face turn into a blurry, teary mess just because Mumma needs to put her down for a second.
Madeline is also learning the meaning of the word, "No." That's a word we've never really had to say to her much before, but now that she's grabbing everything in sight, she's had to hear it quite frequently.
When I tell her no, she pauses whatever thing she's doing long enough to gaze at me with a befuddled expression on her face. Then, she tries whatever she was doing again. I tell her no and stop the action. The confused expressions continue.
Most of the time, she seems to just resign herself to the fact that her Mumma is clearly crazy and tries to eat something else instead. (Usually my arm.) Sometimes, she cries in frustration.
Le sigh. Life's hard when you're a baby.