Mary: getting bigger, growing up

Bill is learning to walk again. He’s about on par with Mary: they do just fine if they’re holding on to something else.

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Mary inches along on tippy-toe with her eyes right about at the level of the desk, her little fingers reaching out for the interesting looking objects she espies: cell phone, scotch tape, bobbin, coffee mug (full and hot), magnets, pens, Magnificat.

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We have these dolphin bath toys. Mary can successfully place a dolphin inside the floating ring. I’m impressed with her skill. Best yet, she’s impressed with her skill. She cackles and claps to praise herself.

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Mommy’s lap belongs to Mary. Peter is not welcome to share Mommy’s lap. She pushes at him and fusses if he dares snuggle with her mommy. It was not long ago that she smiled and happily curled up at my breast with her body on Petey’s legs and her arm patting his as we all cuddled together.

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I gave Mary some scrambled eggs for the first time the other day. “Good?” I asked her, and she smiled and clapped in response after every bite. My older boys had jarred baby food. Katie had homemade baby food. The last three have gone pretty much straight to table food. They have been my best eaters so far, although for some reason my three year olds develop weird food preferences. Peter has suddenly stopped eating tomato-based sauces (except ketchup, of course). The pasta must be plain, and he’ll only eat the crust of the pizza. Jenny, now 5, is slowly coming out of her own food issues. So, I will enjoy this baby who loves everything I put in front of her knowing that in a year or so, she will throw a fit if I cut her pancakes the wrong way, and a year after that, she’ll decide that she doesn’t “do” pancakes.

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Mary has never been a fan of the car, and as she’s gotten older, things haven’t improved. I’m considering going to the Saturday Vigil Mass just so that one day a week, I don’t (Mary doesn’t) have to get in the car. It’s tough being the baby in an active family.

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Mary likes soda cans. We don’t normally have them, but there were leftovers from our Oktoberfest. Last night, she pointed to the one next to Bill and made her “gimme” noises. Bill said no, and she gave him a look of shock: No? What do you mean, no? I’m sorry, I can’t process that. I always get what I want. I’m the baby!

She’s getting big.

2 thoughts on “Mary: getting bigger, growing up

  1. I’m glad to know my children are not the only ones with weird food preferences. My four year old could live on bread and peanut butter. She likes everything bland. She doesn’t even like ketchup! She will eat spaghetti, though. But not lasagna, or baked ziti or any of those other things that are exactly like spaghetti!I have a little one that will be at Mary’s stage in a few months. I can’t wait! (I think). It’s funny how you can’t wait for them to be at a certain stage, but then you regret it when they get there! Maybe I should enjoy her not being able to run away from me!

  2. aw, ive got one just like that. her hand got swatted by daddy last night because she kept trying to grab at her poop while her diaper was being changed and boy were her feelings hurt!r

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