11 months














Crying in frustration, loud, and often

Up until a few months ago, Etta almost never cried.  She’d fuss occasionally, but crying only happened once a week at the most and only if something was really wrong.   Now she cries, hard, several times a day.  She cries in frustration when she wants something and can’t reach it.  She cries in anger when held down for a diaper change.  She cries in despair when the cat runs away just as she reaches for it after having crawled all the way across the room to get to it.  She cries in pain for the many bumps she gets as she stumbles while cruising or pulling herself to standing.  It’s heartbreaking to see her struggle so, but unless she’s overtired, her cries cease as abruptly as they start, whether I’m right there to give a cuddle or in the kitchen up to my elbows in dirty dishes and unable to comfort her immediately.

NO!

Etta is testing our responses on things that we’ve told her not to do.  One of her favorites is to gnaw on the wooden bookcases, which she only does when we’re looking and she wants attention.  She’s very clever in that she makes eye contact with us, and then slowly lowers her open mouth, teeth barred, onto the shelf, still looking at us in anticipation.  We say "No, don’t bite!" while removing her fangs by gently pressing on her cheeks (as is done with animals!) and then picking her up and depositing her down on the carpet across the room with a toy.  She often speeds back over to the bookshelf, calls to us with squeal and flashes a coy smile before descending again with teeth poised.

She "says" no by shaking her head side to side, and will sometimes start shaking her head "no" just before she does something she shouldn’t, such as pulling the cat’s fur or biting the leather couch.  This tells me that she recognizes wrong behavior and understands the word "no," although it doesn’t prevent her from being naughty.  Like all toddlers, she’s learning through repetition, and needs to experience the same outcome time after time before she is satisfied. 

She also says "yes" by nodding her head up and down.  When I ask her a yes or no question she always answers "yes," probably because I only seem to ask her things that she wants to do, such as "do you want some Cheerios?" or "Would you like to go to the park?"

Hug a Bug a Bug

Etta is very demonstrative of affection all of a sudden, grabbing soft toys and squeezing them tightly while laying her cheek on them and sighing.  She’ll also be in the midst of play, crawl over to me, scramble up into my lap, lay her head on my shoulder and throw her arms around my neck while saying, "Aahhh."   I embrace her, sway side to side ever so gently, and whisper, "hug a bug a bug" in her ear, at which she bursts out laughing. 

Etta has always been a cuddly baby, despite her flailing limbs and increasing squirminess while she nurses, and when hugged she’d nearly always snuggle into us.  But this new ability of hers to initiate affection is really melting our hearts.  I’ve showered Etta with physical affection from the beginning, stroking and massaging her as we go about our day, and that’s been enough for me -- I’ve never needed her to reciprocate.  I couldn’t fathom what I’ve been missing, the gentle, tender, spontaneous displays of love from Etta.  I am so blessed.

Cruising

Etta is cruising with confidence, navigating the entire circumference of the room using window ledges, end tables, the couch, bookcases, and a foot stool as hand holds.  She’s also using her activity gym as a walker, holding the crossbar and taking steps while pushing it along, all the way across the room.  However, if I try to stand her up in front of me, providing my hands for support, she’ll buckle at the knees immediately.  When I’m holding her and go to put her down, she’ll only stand if I put her up against something stationary she can see and lean into with both hands. 

Etta pulls up constantly now and will sometimes let go of her support if distracted.  She’ll stand there for several minutes until she suddenly realizes that she’s not hanging on, and then she’ll slowly bend at the knees and plunk down on her behind.  She also kneels with her body erect, and then "walks" along on her knees, which looks really funny.

Crawling is still Etta’s preferred mode of transportation and she loves it when I get down on all fours and crawl after her.  We chase each other around the room, with her laughing hysterically and doing face plants into the carpet when she loses her balance from looking back over her shoulder at me.

I still carry Etta in the BabyBjorn front carrier occasionally, even though she’s getting heavy at 21 pounds and is nearly too long for it.  I use it mostly for quick trips into the store or brisk walks around the block when she is teary and needs cuddling and some fresh air.

Copycat

Etta grabs everything she can get her hands on these days, and what she does with things once she has them in her grasp is surprising.  Today she snatched the television remote, and before I could get to her I thought, "she’s going to press all those buttons and program the television to run descriptive audio or something that will take me days to figure out how to undo…"  Instead, she held the remote out at arm’s length, aiming it at the television, just as we do.

She loves to "brush" her hair, "brush" her teeth (suck on the toothbrush, mostly), and "talk" on the phone, all very seriously executed, of course.  She also watches my hands as I manipulate her toys, observing how I spin the carousel, for example, and then matching my movements as exactly as she can. 

Increased communication

Etta has invented a new sign to say, "Come here" or "Give me that."  She holds her arm out, aimed at the object (or person) of her desire, and rhythmically opens and closes her hand.  I didn’t teach her this sign, in fact, I’d pretty much given up on teaching her signs altogether.  When she first started using this sign of her own invention, I recognized it as her way of communicating a desire, and I responded immediately.  After just one or two times of my responding appropriately, she has been using the sign consistently ever since.  Unfortunately I can’t fill her every request, like when she gestures toward my mug of hot tea or the stray cat outside.

As Etta’s gotten older and more mobile, her brain seems busier than ever, and her temper seems to shorten by the day.  She’s begun to throw tantrums when she’s frustrated, such as when she’s being restrained for a diaper change or put down to play when she’d really rather be carried around in my arms.  It began a few months ago with a violent arching of the back in protest, and it’s now a combination of high-pitched scream, arching of the back, and twisting away or flailing of limbs.  Sometimes she even throws in some head-banging for increased effect. 

Her tantrums are usually short lived, and tonight I observed an interesting element of them.  She was in a clingy mood and I’d been carrying her much of the day, but dinner was on the stove and I needed to put her down.  As I lowered her to the carpet she immediately threw herself backwards, but then paused to look up and see if I was watching, and then continued her outburst.  This suggests to me that her explosions are not just a stress reliever for her, but definite communication.  Something tells me to pay attention here, and be careful and consistent with my responses.  I don’t want to send a message that tantrums are the way to get attention.

Head banging

Being a baby is stressful, and most babies come up with ways to relieve their stress.  Some of the babies in our playgroup are screamers, yelling at the top of their lungs, at the highest possible pitch, often without warning.  Others suck blankets from which they refuse to be parted.  Etta has decided to join the headbanging group.  It’s a painful to witness her arch her spine and fling her head back against a wall, then lean forward and do it again, and again.  She also bangs her top teeth repeatedly onto the rail of her crib or playpen when she’s angry and wants to get out. 

What can I do?  It’s not as though Etta spends her days in the playpen, neglected.  She spends most of her waking hours in my arms or otherwise receiving one-on-one interaction with me.  I provide stimulating outings to the park and the library and play group, but only one a day and I’m very respectful of her naps. She’s certainly not overscheduled or overstimulated, but she can’t possibly be bored, either.  I consider myself to be a pretty intuitive parent, and I strive to minimize her frustrations (while still allowing her to learn some things by trial and error).

I’ll discuss this with her pediatrician if she’s still doing it when we go in for her 12 month check-up, but I’m sure he’ll tell me that there’s not much that I can do and she’ll certainly stop before knocking herself unconscious.  However, I hope Etta doesn’t knock out those teeth on her crib rail!
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