Cora’s been making it very clear that she’s her own little person this past month. She prizes her independence above all things, wanting to get places by herself, do things for herself, and have things to herself. When she’s all “explored out,” she’ll tuck in for a cuddle to reset, then she’s off again. This is Cora at 11 months. Mostly sweet and just a touch sour.
She crawls. Cora still army crawls now and then, since she’s had more practice slithering and is somehow still faster on her belly than on all fours. Nonetheless, she can properly crawl now, which feels like a noteworthy milestone even if she has been mobile for months.
She has OPINIONS. Cora likes what she likes and very clearly doesn’t like what she doesn’t like. Most people who meet her describe her as “chill,” which I’d mostly agree with since she’ll happily occupy herself for thirty minutes at a time playing with any number of things. But if she and that thing she’s enjoying are separated? Prepare for a shriek and a very pissed off baby. Cora is delightfully willful, a trait that seems to go hand-in-hand with her love of independence.
She communicates very clearly for a baby who doesn’t speak English. I almost always know what Cora needs, wants, or doesn’t want. Mostly, the kid’s content with her lot. But when she needs or wants something, she’ll always let me know. “Ma!” means more food. A little whimpering whine while she’s looking at me usually means she wants to be held. A more urgent whine that starts frustrated and ends with a sharp screech, usually accompanied with some body thrashing, means she wants to be put down so she can explore freely. Once she gets what she wants, she goes back to her own little world, content as can be.
She’s a water baby. Cora finds so much joy playing in (and with) water. The bath, the pool, the dog bowl… all fair game.
She plays chase and I didn’t know babies did that. Cora looks back at me over her shoulder as she sprint crawls away, giggling her toothy, drooly, open-mouthed giggle. Sometimes having a baby is like having a high stakes puppy.
She’s impossible to change. I mean diapers and clothes, but given how willful she is, she’s likely just impossible to change period. But seriously, strapping diapers onto her body is basically a workout.
She does baby parkour. Cora thinks it’s super cool to sprint-crawl to the edge of the bed and dive off head first. (I think it’s less cool but haven’t figured out a way to get her to stop.) I hold her ankles to slow her down, of course, and she giggles with delight as she sticks the landing. Parkour!
“Heh heh.” That’s Cora’s two syllable giggle when she does something she’s especially proud of. She also claps.
Now enjoy this series of Cora contentedly eating a literal lemon and subsequently staining my duvet cover because I was naive enough to believe she wouldn’t bite a chunk out of it.