I’ve had a growing list of notes to blog, so I’m going to separate them into two or three shorter posts. (I know you’re glad about that. My posts tend to be novellas. Well, maybe novelettes.)

About a week ago I found Owlet standing a couple of steps up the stairs. I whisked her down. Half an hour later I found her four or five steps up, trying to hoist herself up to the landing. So the next day HRH built another gate and hinged it to the bottom of the stairs. Walking at eleven months, climbing stairs at twelve. I am so not ready for this.

Having learned how to wave goodbye, Owlet is now applying it to everything that moves. She can point to the door and wave, saying “bye-bye” when we talk about someone leaving, too. The other day her local grandparents came to pick Sparky up for a day out, and when she was told that Grandma had to leave she made a very, very sad face, waved, and said “bye-bye” in a heartbroken tone.

She had a little celebration on her actual birthday with godfamilies and honorary uncles in attendance, and then another a week later for all her grandparents. Both were lovely. She got books and clothes and a couple of toys, some of which we had to put away for when she’s a bit older. Our gift to her at the first one was a stuffed lamb, because she loves baas, and for the second (although I didn’t bother to wrap it, they went right into the china cupboard) was a set of tiny teacups and saucers with a delicate rose pattern. They’re the perfect size for a child’s tea party — an actual tea party, not a dolly party. I found them at a thrift store while seeking a used canning rack. I shall keep my eyes open for little plates to match/complement them. These were the cupcakes at the first party:

Here she is opening some presents at her family birthday dinner:

And this was Her Owletship nomming on ribs at that second party:

I took her for her 12 month vaccinations last Tuesday. It’s three shots here, two in one arm and the last in the other. She didn’t bat an eye at the first two, and just made an “oi, what are you doing?” squawk at the third. Brave girl! Or maybe she just has my crazy high pain tolerance. The nurse was a bit taken aback at how calm she was. She had a reaction to it five days later, spots on her legs that migrated to her torso and arms, but they began fading four days after that. I was warned the spots might happen; they’re less common than the fever and irritability, but they’re also not uncommon. Parents are always warned, but I’ve never actually seen it.

Her molars. Oh good gods, her molars. Earlier this week, there were two nights in a row that were awful. She woke up every hour or two, crying. She’s been whingey and clingy in general, warmish to touch although the thermometer swears she’s normal, her appetite is a wee bit off, and she’s just generally miserable, not wanting to play or read or anything. You can’t put her down to get things done, because she just stands there and wails to be picked up again. Everything’s just wrong, all the time. It’s got to be the molars.

Also, she randomly caught a 12″ diameter ball that Sparky tossed to her in the backyard yesterday. Everyone was surprised. It hasn’t happened again. What has happened again in that Owlet has been bonked with the ball repeatedly as Sparky tries to replicate the experience.