Daddy’s Little Troll continues to recover from her extended stint in the hospital. She hasn’t taken any steps yet, but she’s started facing out from the couch and leaning her behind against it. It must infuriate her to watch her brother saunter around the play area, but like everything else Avery’s ever done, I assume she’ll get around to it when she’s good and ready. For now, she’s content to crawl around the play area and cruise along the perimeter.
Lynnette and I noticed recently that she’s bow-legged; her feet also turn inward sometimes. I had both of these traits as a kid and needed to wear special footwear to correct. Them I don’t remember any of it but my mom says it was miserable. Let’s hope that’s not in store for Avery.
Lynnette loves Avery for many reasons and one of the traits she points out most is the way Avery eats. She’s the most aggressive eater in the house not named Abby or Phil. Cole can eat, but he always get distracted. He wants to play with a spoon or look at the leaves in the trees outside the window. Not Avery. When she’s strapped into her high chair, she’s locked in. Lynnette never seems to get the spoon to Avery’s mouth quick enough for her liking. She’s better at feeding herself by hand than Cole is. Avery can use just three fingers to get food into her mouth. Cole still balls the treats up in his fist, jams the entire fist into his mouth, then opens his fingers as needed to drop the treat into his throat. He’s a barbarian; Avery is something like a lady.
Today is the first day of Fall Break and I’ll be treated to my favorite Avery-related thing all week long. As you know, Cole wakes up for the day at some point after 6 am – closer to 7 if I am lucky. Well, once he’s up, I take him into the living room to play. From that point, we’re both just waiting for Avery to wake up. It starts with rustling. Aside: Avery sleeps soundly if she’s got her Honey (burp cloth) in her hands and face. The problem was that she’d roll around so much that she’d lose track of her burp cloth. “I put a bunch of Honeys in Avery’s crib” Lynnette told me about a week after Gravy returned from the hospital. The first time I peeked in the crib, there were four cloths in there. This weekend I went to get Avery out of bed and there were 9 or so, just strewn about every inch of the crib. I laughed. I can hear Avery from the living room. Sometimes I take a look in the room and I can see the top of her head over the bumper. But I wait. Eventually, she’ll make a small noise. It’s a cross between a grunt and a “Sup, Boi?!” I walk to the door way and wait until she sees me. Because the room is still dimly lit with morning, her eyes are at their largest and roundest. I smile and she smiles back. I always pick her up and hold her over my head. We look at each other. “Good morning, Gravy!” I say. Most of the time she just smiles. But every once in a while she throws me that laugh which is just her blowing air through her nostrils. That sound is one of the best things going in my life.