Wow! Our Very Best Day So Far!

 Dear Luca,

    We just pulled it all together today. Got it figured out. Established a routine. Who knows if it will last, but today was a splendid day.

    It all started around noon, when I arrived at your house. Of course, as usual, you were not at all happy to see me.  There you were in your high chair happily eating tiny pieces of carrots and you took one look at me, and said, as only you know how to say, "Oh, no! She came back!" Although I think it embarrasses your mother, I don't take it personally. You're smart enough to know that when I show up, your mom leaves, and that is not at all the way you want your world to work out.

You had just woken up from your nap, so our usual pattern of fixing you a bottle and strapping you in your stroller wasn't going to work. You were ready to play. So play we did. We sat on the floor in your room and brought out any toy that has batteries in it, and, for an hour--or a little over an hour--all those toys sang to us, and you crawled only a little and mostly pulled yourself up on the nearest thing you could find because:

YOU ARE STANDING UP!

 

Look at you! Also, look at your crib in the background. Note how low your mattress is. Your parents had to that when, in the night, you discovered you could pull yourself up. Just so you don't flip over the rail, your mattress was lowered right away.

    You have an interesting collection of songs on the various toys you have.  Here is the most familiar one, It's one that your daddy sang, and also your aunts Catherine and Julie, and all the ones who were growing up in the 1960s onward. 

If you're happy and you know it clap your hands. (clap, clap)

If you're happy and you know it clap your hands. (clap, clap)

If you're happy and you know it, then your face should surely show it.

If you're happy and you know it clap your hands (clap, clap).

And on and on--stomp your feet, pat your head, do all three. So we sang this one over and over and over.

    Then your green frog has a couple of interesting ones about hands and feet. He sings, "I have a hand and you do, too. I have a hand and so do you." Something like that. Then he goes to feet. It's a bit of an annoying voice, but Mr. Frog is clearly one of your favorites.

    In that hour of play, you'd crawl back and forth from the music box to the crate with your toys in it, pulling yourself up and banging on whatever was closest, Of course, you crawled over to your crib, and became fascinated with the cord attached to the little box that makes soothing noises for when you sleep. It took me a while to distract you. You love electrical cords.  When your dad came home, I warned him that any toy that had a battery in it had been turned to the "on" position.

    Before we took our traditional walk, you let me carry you around the house a bit, and we looked at pictures, and books, and our reflection in the mirror. When you got fussy, I strapped you into your stroller, in spite of your protests. I made a bottle for you, and as we went outside, you began to protest rather loudly, but then, you took your bottle in both hands and began to drink. Five minutes later you were sound asleep. 

    So we walked up and down for an hour, and two miles later we returned  to your home, where your dad was waiting for us. You were still sleeping as I said goodby to your dad and got in my car for the beautiful trip down Boulder Canyon into Boulder.

    It seemed to me that everything worked out in the best way: playing, getting tired, getting a little fussy, being pushed in your stroller, falling asleep as we walked the pine tree lined roads in your mountain neighborhood.