Libration

Pancake, you love your birthday wagon from Grammie, it's been very freeing for you. You're able to ride along with us while sitting straight up and eating snacks. Since you're so big on the upright thing, it's really been a godsend for walks. Yay!

On a side note, you stood for Dad on Monday in the garage, and tonight you stood for me too! You wobble for a second, then kind of settle into an upper leg bounce.

We had a very busy day today, we met with playgroup and "toured" the Amy's Ice Cream factory, you napped and then we got up for a doctor's appt. We then ran a couple errands and ended up at the grocery store. People in the store were especially sweet to you today and you smiled a lot. You're still very reserved at playgroup... you concentrate very hard and seem to intensely take-in all the kids and all the cool things they are able to do. It's strange to me that one day that will change, that you will be accustomed to being around other kids and not bat an eyelash. Even though we're nowhere near having another child I've been thinking a lot about whether we'll want to give you a sibling one of these days. It seems like an inconceivable decision to make, but I watch the other children with their siblings and wonder how things will turn out for you and us, brother or sister-wise.

Today I encountered one of i'm sure millions to come of moral parenting issues. You and I came to a stop at an intersection that like most intersections in Austin, was the pan-handling territory of a particularly nice looking gentleman. I smiled at him, because it felt appropriate. I never quite know how to handle eye-contact with people who are panhandling, which I'm sure is how everyone, including the panhandler, feels. I act on a case-by-case basis. Anyway, I smiled at this particular guy. He moved on, standing just behind my car seat. I could see you in the baby mirror, you were watching him intently but I'm not sure if he had seen you. I said "You can say HI sylvie", and waited to see how you would react. You scrunched your little face a bit and then held out your (currently) coveted Golden Book. It was innocent, I'm not claiming it was an act of blind social equality, but it was beautiful all the same. I know that as you grow older we'll have to teach you to be cautious and to stay away from strangers... BUT I really enjoyed this one moment, knowing you were safe and being proud for you to offer your book to this completely strange man. Chance encounters have always seemed to me to be the lifeblood of humanity... but thats a little too much to get into on a baby blog! SPEAKING of chance encounters...

I'd like to end this post with a story told to me last week in the grocery store that I haven't been able to shake from my brain. You and I were in the produce section, and a very pretty woman in her late 60's approached me and complimented you on your beauty and bird observation skills (a small brown bird was loose inside the grocery store and you were following it's every move). her hair was shoulder length and wavy grey-ish brown, and I now feel like it was held back with a scarf but she may have just been that type of woman. After chatting for a minute she told me that your hair was just a shade darker than her youngest son's when he was your age, and how he, too loved nature. Anyway, her story:

This woman and her three sons lived in Iraq during her husband's military service in the Middle East. Apparently it was a very cold first winter in Iraq, and her two-year-old son had been hearing stories of Massachusetts snow from his two older brothers, but had never seen it himself. The woman awoke one morning to falling snow covering the sand, and knew she had to pick and choose her words to the boys carefully. She woke them up, and said, "before I tell you what I'm about to tell you, you must put on your warm pants and shoes." They began to comply until the youngest, with his shoes half on realized "SNOW!" and tore down the stairs, loosing his shoes along the way. The two older boys did as they'd been told, and when they and the woman got downstairs she saw her two-year old son standing in the doorway, illuminated by the reflections of sand and snow, still in his PJs, with his arms and face raised to the sky. She told us this story, and explained that it was her very favorite memory and how beautiful the moment had been. She also mentioned that she'd always wished she were an artist and could paint that moment... but personally, I think it may be perfect kept just the way it is :)