Easy Like a Sunday Morning

It's Sunday.

The neighbourhood is largely quiet except for the occasional dog barking and bird chirping.

Miss Squid is on the floor, starting to get frustrated that she can't move where she wants. She can move, but so far its not directed movement. She rolls and finds herself off her rug and onto the carpet. She then proceeds to wiggle and squirm in a way which only serves to make her skin red, without managing to get closer to the toys that were once all around her, before she rolled away from them.

I'm torn between giving her what she loudly expresses she wants, and letting her find a way through the frustration to take action and overcome the first of many hurdles she has to face. I settle on repositioning her in the midst of the toys sprinkled on her mat, propping her in a slouched sit. The toys provide the motivation to slowly lower herself to the floor as she reaches for a toy and again she is on her belly and soon doing 360s again as she pulls herself around in circles with her upper body, her legs moving, but very much uncoordinated with her upper half.

It is a simple pleasure, exciting and ordinary all in one as we watch and anticipate the huge leap of independent movement which is happening and about to happen.

Miss squid flashes us her gummy smiles, no sign of teeth despite the huge amounts of food she consumes: cereal, fruit, veggies, yoghurt, toast - all devoured happily, readily and with gusto.

She is growing well.


She makes me smile and I'm glad to spend my time with her.