Friday, January 27, 2012

Status report: Maia, month 9

And our Maia-bird is finally nine months old! Her clothes have been saying it for three months already. I dug out the twelve-month clothes this week, the ones that are suitable. Since Chloë was this size in the spring and summer, we're going to have to go buy a few things, particularly pajamas, though her Christmas and Valentine's hauls have helped with that. I don't mind actually buying clothes for my daughter. It's a pretty rare event.

Maia at nine months is just below 21 pounds, 75th-90th percentile, so her growth has slowed a little...though we still need to go out and get convertible carseats to replace the infant carrier with all haste. I'm sorry to see it go. She caught a recent cold of mine, but has otherwise been in good health...although she had a little fever today, most likely from the same cause of her sudden incessant drooling. That's right, ladies and gentlemen: we've entered teething! I'm pleased, since she's still not keen on purees and teeth would make me happier about giving her real foods. Though lack of teeth hasn't been stopping her, and she's got a fine pincer grasp. Lately she's had apple, banana, grapes, mango (rather insipid, from a restaurant), clementine, bits of bread, vegetable Cheeto-style puffs, plenty of Os and oatmeal, more Stage 3s, pasta, roasted sweet potato, boiled regular potato, and some tiny bits of gingerbread cookie (YES I'M A BAD MOTHER).

She adores Chloë's sippies. If we give her her own, she'll play with it a bit; but what she loves is to motor over to wherever Chloë has left her milk or juice and suck at it with all she's got. We know she's gotten some this way, though it's hard to say how much. Chloë just kind of lets her. Maybe it'll become more of an issue when she's a more efficient thief.

She's been cruising everywhere, and walking while holding our hands, and has started letting go to try to stand alone. She fails miserably and falls after about half a second, but she's trying...oh my goodness is she trying. "It's so soon," I lament, but she doesn't seem to hear me.

She's still Miss Wigglebutt, refusing to stay still for diaper changes (though giving her something to chew on and singing the Changing Maia's Bottom song helps) or keep her socks on, zeroing in on any piece of paper or tissue we happen to leave about. She's still waking up in the night, anywhere between 2:30 and 6:30 depending, and I'm worried that we're keeping her up too late at night; she almost always falls asleep while we nurse and only barely rouses when I put her Sleep Sack on her and deposit her in her crib. I'm going to start putting her down a little earlier and see whether that helps.

She and her sister continue to get along well. She likes to pull Chloë's hair--mine too--and we're trying to get her to stop; but she also likes to go see what she's doing, particularly if we're reading, or crawl on top of her, or suck on the fingers that Chloë readily offers. She likes to be tickled, and flown, and surprised, and to bounce in my arms when I come home from work. I still worry that we're not giving her what we gave Chloë, but I think she's doing just fine with what she's got.

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