Habits of Babies

Contraband Pacifier + Lamb

Henrietta does these three things that I find so charming. The last of the three is charming and deeply disturbing. You'll see what I mean.

The first is that every time I change her top for any reason--to change her out of her pajamas, to put on her dress for the day, to change her dress when it warms up to 80 degrees in the afternoon--she waits until her head has popped through, and then says "Boo!" This on its own is plenty endearing, but to me what's even more endearing is when she forgets to say it right away, and then, with one arm partway through a sleeve, she says, "Boo. Boo." Quickly, almost apologetically, twice for good measure. This is so fascinating to me, as if we've signed a very serious contract that she must say "boo" while getting her shirt changed. We've signed no such contract, but it's lovely to me that this small thing matters to her. It amuses her, and she knows it amuses me because I still laugh every time she does it, so she considers it her obligation to never forget.

The same is true for saying "uh-oh" when something drops to the floor. And I know both of these things (this one especially) are fairly typical for this age, but what's fascinating, again, is how devoted she is to the practice. She does it not just when something falls, but when something is already on the floor and appears to have fallen some time previously. The other day at the grocery store she saw something on the floor, and from her perch on the cart she pointed to it and said, appropriately, "Uh-oh!"

And for this last one, I do hope you're not eating lunch as you read it. She's taken to spilling liquid--on purpose. Milk, water, applesauce in a pouch, yogurt in a squeezey tube--whatever it is gets deposited in a small puddle on the tile or the couch or the coffee table, and then she gets down really low, in her best crouch, and slurps it. She looks up at me, and says, "Mmmmm!" This happens quickly, very quickly, before I can cross the room to stop her. I try to tell her yucky, yucky, nonono, but again, she seems to simply find it amusing. I don't know where she got this behavior from. She's definitely not modeling me. But my hunch is that she gets it from the cats. She watches those guys all day, and they, of course, crouch down to eat their food or lap their water. I haven't heard them say "Mmm!" But maybe that's a Henrietta signature addition.

And even as I type these out, I'm realizing she does them less often. They change so quickly, don't they? She seems to be this particular way, this little personality with quirks and particular intentions, and almost before I can cross the room to record it, she's onto something else, changing faster than I can manage to keep up with. I must do better at trying.