Guess I should stop being bitter that my baby books were never filled out

I’m not sure but I think Adele has taken her first steps.

You see, I don’t know how to judge.  I’ve never been good at that sort of thing.  Like, what was (will be?) her first word?  She still doesn’t say ‘Mama’.  Sometimes she says ‘Dada,’ but I’m pretty sure that’s what she calls everything.  We’re working on ‘Uh-Oh’ when she falls but so far all she manages is ‘Uh!  Uh!’  So I don’t know if she’s had a true first word yet.  I believe in Sebastian’s baby book it says his first word was “Probably ‘bye-bye,’ I guess. Maybe.”  Because I am nothing if not observant. 

So Adele stands up and lunges down onto her hands quite a bit, and sometimes there is a step or two thrown in before she lands.  But she doesn’t have real balance.  Or she does have it but doesn’t want to trust that she has it.  So does that count?  Has she had her first steps?

I’m afraid she’s also fallen victim to the second child, I’m-too-busy-to-fully-monitor-every-milestone-that-passes syndrome.  And I feel bad about it.  I was a second child and always thought the fact that there weren’t as many pictures of me as a baby, or weren’t as many noted landmarks was my parents just not trying hard enough.  (Sorry, Mom.)

But, unfortunately, now I get it.  Any time I have a moment to myself where I’m not thinking about everything that needs to be done, I don’t feel like writing in a baby book.  I will, don’t worry Adele.  But I don’t necessary want to.

So Adele’s first steps.  Maybe she’s had them.  Maybe not.  She still won’t stand up very long, though she can.  And I’m almost positive she could walk if she just loosened up a bit and didn’t think about it. 

She’s at that age where being still is not an option, and just walking slowly is torture.  Even when I walk with her, holding her hands, she lets go so she can crawl because she’s a little speed demon – like a crab on crack and possible a gallon of espresso.  And dressing her and changing her diaper is akin to trying to put a Onesie on a rabid, wild monkey.  There’s lots of screaming and squirming and turning and arching of her back but also scratching and possibly biting and hair pulling. 

And Adele is very forceful and expressive with her own language.  She will tell you stories with hand gestures and emphatic emphasis.  (That’s totally a thing.  Look it up.)  She likes to attempt to put her shoes and socks on and she’s gained a certain recent attachment to burp cloths that she cuddles up with when she’s sleepy.  She climbs stairs like a pro and can entertain herself for at least an hour, unlike her older brother who needs me to constantly tell him HOW TO PLAY and if I’m not paying enough attention he tries to spit on me.  Because he is a boy and also a little needy.

So maybe Adele has and maybe she hasn’t taken her first steps or spoken her first word.  And maybe she’ll spend decades bothered by the fact that the record of her early years isn’t quite as detailed as her brother’s, though really neither are what they should be.  But with any luck one day she’ll have her own children who will resent her and then she will understand.

Right?