Oliver has little quirks right now that make me laugh. One of them is how fascinated he is with the floor. When I hold him facing out, he bends at the waist to study it closely, scanning every direction as though there’s a secret down there he might discover. It actually reminds me of a yoga stretch I do where I lean side to side for a count of thirty seconds.
Another quirk is that Oliver seems far more interested in standing than crawling. Crawling doesn’t appear to be on his agenda at all. He rolls and stretches to reach his toys, but getting on his knees? Not interested. Several times today, he reached out for my hands, grabbed a finger in each of his, and pulled himself into a stand. Once up, he tried to walk, beaming with pride.
At one point, I bent down to pick him up, but instead he grabbed my hands and pulled himself up on his own. I wasn’t ready for that move and immediately felt something give in my lower back. I had to sit on the couch to catch my breath while Oliver bounced happily on his feet, thrilled with himself. His joy is contagious, even when I’m wincing a little.
And then there are the tags. Oliver loves tags on toys, pillows—anything. He studies them as seriously as he does his toys, and of course, every tag goes straight into his mouth. I’m hoping this tag obsession is his version of my childhood habit of eating dirt. Maybe he’s just building himself one heck of an immune system.
Jeremy came home from work just as Oliver had decided he’d had enough of grandma for the day. The instant he saw his dad, he went from cranky to the happiest baby in the world—just like flipping a switch.
It was a full and funny day, one of those times when small moments turn into memories. I hope your Sunday held a little peace and joy, too.
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