Today is Dave’s birthday. I normally make a big huge stink about birthdays, but not so much this year, mostly due to budget constraints, but also because I’m too tired to plan much of anything. He knows I haven’t forgotten since I keep whispering thirty-six to him, over and over, just to drive him crazy. (His usual response is to call me 32, which, whatever dude, some of us still have a few months left until our birthdays. So there.)
Cate, however, gave Dave his birthday gift last night: she crawled forward for the first time. Even better, she went straight to him. Woo-hoo!
After her bath, I was trying to get her dressed, which is always a struggle these days since she’d much rather be on all fours rocking back and forth, and do you have any idea how hard it is to dress a baby like that? I think it’d be easier to dress the cats.
Anyway, she started doing this new thing of raising herself up onto her tippy-toes, so she was more or less in a downward-facing dog position. It was really cute, so I yelled for Dave to come see, and she got so excited when she saw him in the bathroom doorway that she lowered herself back to all fours and crawled straight toward him. It was awesome.
We spent the next several minutes sitting in the hall trying to get her to crawl toward each of us, which she did. (Although we usually had to bribe her to come forward with a toy, or a cat, or a roll of toilet paper. Whatever works.) I’m going to have to try to catch it on video, because it is seriously adorable. I know all parents think that about their babies, and I don’t care because I think she’s just about the most brilliant thing on the planet. Trite and cliched, perhaps, but true.
Oh, and happy birthday, Dave. I love you so much, and thank you for giving me that fantastic little girl. And thanks for always being a few years older than me, so I can continue to feel good about my age.