That's the noise we hear these days when, careful as we are, Brigid manages to fall down. It's horrible to hear, and hearing the Thunk! is almost worse than the cries we hear after it. (The horror of anticipation? of responsibility?) She's better and better at sitting up, but still lunges after interesting objects when she sees them, upsetting her equilibrium. We've taken to surrounding her with pillows, and that works pretty well, because then she can keel over without hurting herself.
She still can't get into a sitting position by herself, but she tries really hard, doing these earnest crunches that consist of tucking her chin into her chest and tightening her stomach and grunting. When she demonstrates this desire to be upright, we honor her intention by pulling her into a sitting or standing position. Lying down just doesn't cut it these days.
As Brigid works on her mobility, Adam and I are working on organization. Yesterday and the day before, we decided we wanted to reorganize our apartment, and pulled many things off of shelves and out of closets and put them on other shelves and in different closets for a change of pace. But we also threw lots of things away (Laurel was slightly horrified that we tossed most of our old yearbooks, which take up loads of space and which we never looked at - but was slightly mollified to know that we kept one each, so that we could show our kids what high school was like in OUR day - she apparently looks through hers once a year). Now, instead of having Adam's desk and Jess' desk, we have a play desk and a work desk. We think it'll work better, and give us better access to all the toys and crafts we enjoy playing with and doing (karate stuff, computer stuff, sewing stuff, drawing stuff, sculpting stuff, writing stuff . . .). The bigger desk is the play desk, which might tell you something about us . . . it certainly LOOKS better, we'll see if it works better.
2 comments:
That reminds me of a story my parents tell about me. It was near Christmas, and I was about a year and a half old. I was in the living room and my parents were in the dining room. Suddenly, they heard a THUNK. They jumped up to run to the living room, thinking I'd fallen off the couch or something, then heard another THUNK. Then another. They looked in, and I was happily occupied picking up grapefruit from the box of fruit under the tree, and throwing them as far across the room as I could, at which point they would land with a THUNK on the carpet.
Take heart---they do learn pretty quickly how to catch themselves. Whenever they clonk themselves, my boys wait a few seconds to see my reaction. If I get upset, they start wailing inconsolably, but if I take it in stride, they usually just giggle.
But I have no idea how I'm going to keep them from clonking themselves from the back of the couch. Shudder.
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