Thursday, September 23, 2004

Hands, Hands, Hands

It is just amazing to me how much more control Roxi has over her body every day. If the learning curve stayed that steep into adulthood, we'd all be levitating acrobats by now.

The random arm flailing has been replaced by specific batting, reaching and grabbing. She still thwacks herself in the side with her right arm when she gets excited (does this mean she'll be right handed, we wonder?), but you can see her brain working most of the time trying to get her arms where she wants. Such concentration in her little face. That expression used to be a sure sign of pooping. Now she's getting thoughtful about all sorts of things. Though pooping is still right up there, of course.

Her fingers are much more dexterous as well. Roxi's Mimi got her a stuffed beach bucket full of little stuffed toys, and they are just the right size for wee hands. Her favorite at the moment is the tiny clam, which is bright yellow, makes fun crinkly sounds when handled and has a mirror inside. She puts the death grip on that puppy, and it makes her day when she can successfully bring it to her mouth.

Other things Roxi likes to grab are: the chicken in her play gym, the clothes of anyone who is holding her, her clothes - particularly sleeves, Teton (our big, black cat - the only one of our cats who will get close enough for extended periods of time), my hair, Rob's goatee and, well, OK ... just about anything now that I think about it.