The Stories of our Lives

Heya, Orly here.

I’m slacking off a bit. Since I’ve proved that I very well can walk when I’m willing to, I don’t feel like I should be rushing into things. Walking on my knees suits me fine as a vertical means of mobility for now, so I’ll adopt the higher up version when I’m good and ready.

It’s not a question of being wary of falls, quite, because I’ve found out the hard way that falls can happen even when you’re at floor level. It wasn’t mom’s fault. Or rather, let me rephrase: mom didn’t forget the safety gate on purpose. She did feel terribly guilty when she ran into the room at my crying and found I had tumbled six stairs down to the ceramic tiles of the foyer, however. You know us babies, though: ten minutes (and some milk) later I was up and about, chatting up Xavier and flashing smiles. The day is short, and we don’t have time to be sulking or feeling sore.

No, what I’m really into these days is COPYING. My brain stores up all sorts of behaviours and sounds, and I repeat them at whim. Mom, with Xavier’s help, showed me how to pretend-cook, care for my dolls and chat on the phone, so that’s my big fun nowadays. I shake a spoon into a bowl and stick it in my mouth or my dolls’ faces; I shove my babies into their bassinet or stroller; I move around with my princess-cellphone behind my head (TXT-ing of course).

It’s a great way to learn communication, too. I can name and recognize the cat, I’m passably good at identifying mommy, daddy and Xavier, and I use the word “encore” to request more of the same. I do a clucking sound when horses are mentioned, too.

So what else is new? I’m turning eleven months old today!
Some people will receive a birthday party invitation mighty soon.

- Orly

PS. My resolution for 2009 is sleeping sound all night long. I’m having a tough time with it, though. I often drop the ball between 4 and 5 am. Sigh.