On the verge

The dink has been on the verge of crawling for a couple weeks now, but he just can't seal the deal. He can maneuver from the sitting up position with one leg straight and one bent, to perching on all fours, rocking back and forth. I think once I saw him bring his back leg forward in an attempt to take the first crawl, but then he fell down to his tummy, all four limbs splayed. It's pretty frustrating for him, though that doesn't seem to motivate him too much. He'll eye a toy that's out of reach, attempt to crawl for a minute, then give up and find something else to occupy him. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. Self-pacification? Lack of drive? Acceptance and happiness amidst turmoil? Who knows what the dink will reveal about himself in the next months.

For now, I'm pretty sure he has a future as a master electrician. His favorite things in life are characterized by buttons, flashing lights, and electrical functions: light switches, light strings (i.e. the fan light he loves to pull on and off), cd players, cell phones, answering machines, tv, remote control, alarm system pad, microwave...there is no end to this. Just seeing the alarm system, which I never even let him touch, gets his legs and arms pumping and his breath short. What a dink. I've started panting back at him when he gets himself going, and he laughs at me. He also laughed this week when I tried to firmly tell him "no" for the first time. He kept rolling over during a diaper change, and I used a deep and firm tone of voice to try to stop him. Yep, he thought that was pretty funny.

If dink's not a master electrician, maybe he'll make his mawmaw proudest of all and be a priest, because he sure loves his prayers at night. When he doesn't fall asleep nursing on the couch, I take him to his room, cradle him like a teeny baby and sway back and forth and whisper his prayers to him. First Our Father, then Hail Mary, then O My Jesus, and the Guardian Angel prayer...then another few Our Fathers and Hail Marys as his eyes start rolling back into his head and his body becomes heavier and heavier. Sometimes he falls asleep like that and sometimes he just persists in that soporific state, just on the verge, enjoying the rhythm of the words and the kisses I give him in between verses, until I place him in his crib and pat his little back while he sucks on his fingers and finally seals the deal for himself. See that--maybe the dink just likes that middle ground, teetering between his today and enjoying the moment before moving on to his tomrrow. I could stand to spend some time there on the verge myself.