rivka

Heart-pounding exercise #1: lifting UP. Alex still eats baby oatmeal for breakfast, the kind where you measure out spoonfuls of dry cereal and mix them with an equal quantity of milk. It used to be five tablespoons; now that her interest in oatmeal is beginning to wane, it's four.

I always count the spoonfuls of cereal out loud as they go into the bowl. When I went down to four spoonfuls (several weeks ago) and started stopping the count at four, Alex started saying "five!" at the end. I thought it was cute. I also thought, "Hee! If I were one of those crazy mothers, I would run and tell everyone 'my baby can count!' But obviously, she's memorized the word I used to say at the end of oatmeal measuring."

This morning, I measured out four spoonfuls of oatmeal, counting them. Alex added, "five!"

"That's right," I said cheerfully. "Five is the next number."

And Alex said, "six!"

Holy shit.

Hey, everyone! ~~My baby can count!~~My baby has begun to recognize that number words occur in a particular sequence!

Heart-pounding exercise #2: crashing DOWN. Breakfast over, I unlatched Alex's highchair tray and carried it into the kitchen. Then I heard a little voice behind me: "Black! Black!"

Now, what do we have at breakfast that's black? I wondered. And then I realized. And broke all previous land-speed records getting back into the dining room, where Alex was happily brandishing the black-handled knife I used to cut up her strawberries.

"No! No!" I yelled. And then, when the knife was safely on the table and Alex was obviously fine: "Yes, the knife is black. But it's also sharp. Not safe for babies. Not safe for babies. Not safe for babies."

"Black," Alex agreed.