and every eye shall see it

Having grown up in Kentucky, where there is an abundance of natural beauty, I often feel starved for it here among the empty buildings of our town. But then, sometimes, the sky catches on fire and all the rest becomes shadow and silhouette.

It is the beauty that comes as the last tears of a storm drop away.

I am told there was also a great, thin rainbow that stretched over the whole city. I must've been tucking the kids in when it happened. Either that, or the lenses on my face were too small to take it in at once, here seeing the reds, there the yellows, there the blues and purples. (All these pictures were taken within the same minute.) One girl said someone tucked one corner of artist's paper under the old factory and the other under the bridge by the river, then unfolded it straight up to the sky. Another said some movie maker stood a projector screen on its side from the bridge over Kilgore to a cloud as it ran away and flung it open toward the north. Whether it was a silent movie or a watercolor so large it only seemed to move, I couldn't tell, but color upon color stacked and blended as far as the eye could see.

women in the kitchen

Most of you know that, for simplicity's sake, we McCrorys describe ourselves as vegetarians. But this evening, we're preparing a couple of steaks given to us my one of Pat's former co-workers. We rarely have meat (pun intended), so I am not accustomed to making side dishes to accompany it. I ask Pat, "What should I make to go with it?" but I find myself always returning to what is familiar. Solitary vegetables remind me of my childhood. Sunday dinners of steak, baked potatoes, and green beans. Family dinners at my Grandma's that use every burner on the stove, a different (often homegrown) treat under each lid and always cooked apples, spoons everywhere, sweat dripping down the sides of each little pot.

So tonight's dinner is my own collected memorabilia. I kept cooking until there was enough to cover the whole stove. Something green, potatoes, apples, and meat are the stovetop tenants that moved in beside the jar of grease tonight. My mom and my grandma are the cooks. I stir and taste.

girls at the GAP

I suppose I'm posting about my shopping experiences for a few reasons. 1.) Shopping, especially for summer clothes, has a special way of making women feel really self-conscious. Trying on clothes in front of a full-length mirror is a potentially explosive combination of self-image and money. 2.) I have been studying a lot about females (especially teenagers) and self-image lately for the girls' group I lead. I've been doing a lot of thinking about how we women hand down our standards of beauty to the girls we know. Therefore, I've been doing mental checks on my own standards of beauty to see whether they line up with what I'm trying to teach the girls. 3.) I've still not completely overcome the lie that my body is supposed to fit and look good in whatever fashion says is right instead of the other way around, but I want to include you on one leg of my journey.

So this evening, Pat sent me out and told me to spend whatever it took to buy clothes that fit well and would last awhile. I think that is most women's dream evening, but I met the offer with quite a bit of apprehension. Spending a lot of money makes me really nervous. It's probably one of my better attributes, but it makes it hard to enjoy things that cost a good deal of money sometimes. I made a couple brief calls to see if anyone between me and the mall could come with me, RIGHT NOW, for moral support. Of course, all my friends were being responsible and couldn't go, but I was wished well. Off I went, with Eden in tow so Pat wouldn't be left with both kids, to find a summer wardrobe. (If you missed my previous post, I think I gave it all away on accident.)

It was a glorious hour of shopping. I only went to GAP, and I really don't know why I ever go anywhere else. Their clothes fit me. Okay, not ALL their clothes fit me, but I can always find something for my shape there. And pretty much only there. I am sure I don't agree with a lot of GAP's practices, but I have to hand it to them for making lines of clothing that are actually designed around a few common female shapes (with an "s"). Thanks, GAP.

Eden sat in the stroller and happily played with her butterfly while I gathered my initial pile of shorts. One thing I don't like about GAP (and virtually ALL women's clothing brands that I know of) is that you can never know what size you wear. So I grab three sizes of everything I like. My time in the dressing room proved this to be the best practice, since the two times I only grabbed the middle size, once I needed the size bigger and once I needed the size smaller, requiring an extra trip out with the stroller. I can't prove it, but I know several women who will back me up, that companies manipulate their sizes so that, from time to time, we can be really happy about fitting in that smaller size and will impulse buy to celebrate our "accomplishment." It makes shopping take a lot longer. I'm sure that has its advantages for stores, too. So I can get pretty angry shopping for that reason, but there was Eden in the dressing room, smiling at and playing peek-a-boo with her reflection in the mirror. So who's to get angry while in a dressing room with that? Besides, I found a few things that looked pretty good. Good enough for a closer examination.

Eden had been taken out of the stroller for fussiness and had been happily dancing to the 80s music playing over the speaker, so I grabbed her hand and we walked together down to the three-way mirror. This is a brave endeavor because I wasn't quite sure how the clothes looked from behind the double-stroller in the small dressing room. I had to parade my guess down to the other end of the dressing room (the mirrors close by were blocked) to find out. But here I had a grand realization. I was glad Eden was with me. Here is why.

Having Eden with me on the walk down the lane, past the helpful clerks, was a distraction. For me and for the people I met on the way there. Eden is unbelievably cute and this fact was the topic of all conversation with anyone we met. So she was helpful in that way.

She also was helpful because she required me to talk my way through the whole process. She gets fussy if she starts to feel left out, so the time went much more smoothly if I narrated what was going on. "This is a skirt, Eden. It's blue. I'm going to put it on, and...well, maybe I'm not going to get it on, either." And here I had to make a decision. What to say about the thing that just didn't go on right at all? My first thought was, "Mommy can't fit into that one, Eden. It looks bad. Let's put that one back." But then I said, "This one is not made for people shaped like me. Hopefully when you're my age, someone smart will figure out how to make clothes for people this shape." It's oversimplifying the whole thing, but she's 1 and doesn't have a clue what I'm talking about (probably). But I want to practice what I will say. And if the size of clothes you've been trying on successfully all night suddenly can't fit over your hips, then it's a problem with the clothes and not your hips! I want my daughter to know that. Clothes are made to fit people, not the other way around.

But she also was helpful because, no matter what I tried on, she looked at my face and gave me the same wonderful smile she always gives me. Eden thinks I look great in everything because I am her mom. Eden, in many ways, reminds me that I am beautiful. Beautiful in ways that have nothing to do with whether the clothes at the GAP look good on me. Having her there was a reminder that my body has done something really amazing in bringing another life into the world. That means things don't fit the same anymore, but her life has done far more to add to my beauty than it ever took away from it. Our bodies are beautiful more because of what they have done (creating beauty, providing for others, showing kindness, etc.) than because of what number some company assigns them.

I went home with a bag full of clothes that fit. That was amazing and made me nearly giddy happy, mostly because it was so unexpected. But my best trophy was going home with my wonderful daughter, a little more confident that we can both appreciate the beauty of real people when we see it.

An evening at Kohl's

I have come to admit that I must have actually, accidentally donated all our spring clothes this winter. Just as I had started building up a wardrobe post-children, too! I find myself with 0 pairs of shorts as the weather gets warm. Pat's not much better off.

So this evening it was off to Kohl's to begin again. I can't say I'm excited by an excuse to get all new clothes. I'm mourning the loss of the shorts that fit right and the white skirt that made me feel downright pretty. I tend to cherish those few and far-betweens I've picked up here and there that actually fit well. The fact that they are few and far-between means finding enough of them all in one season is...well...I'm trying to remain optimistic. So begins this year's summer shopping and all women agree, it is an eye-opening experience. Here's the good, the bad, and...well, the ugly doesn't even make it out of the dressing room.

- I narrowed down the pile of 25 or more shorts in 6 different sizes down to two pairs in two different sizes. I put the first one on for Pat. "You look like your mom," he said. (No offense, Mom, it's just that....)

- There seems to be a conspiracy to fit all females into the under-13 or over-45(ish? I may need to re-think that number later in life...) categories. I look ridiculous in one and...not wise enough for the other. :)

- Israel is a great helper and could run things between me and Pat when I was in the dressing room and Pat was outside finding things that he thought would look better than what I had picked out.

- Israel said of one of the two pairs, "I can wear those when I get older?"

- I bought that pair of shorts.

- Pat offered up that maybe we should also buy some chocolate. I told him that's not the sort of thing you do the day you get your first pair of shorts for the summer.

- On the way home, a policeman zoomed closely around a car to pass him coming toward me, riding the yellow line. He wasn't going to hit me, probably, but he was being a jerk. I honked my horn at him. Then I said I couldn't believe I had done it. Pat said, "I dare him to come try to mess with my wife."

- I'm not sure if Pat said it because he would give it to the guy or because he thought I would, but I was glad.

- I may be too old for most juniors-sized styles, but I enjoy the benefits of being able to hang with the big girls.

Days gone by....

As all parents will tell you, these days go by quickly in many ways. The kids change quickly. Here is another attempt to capture my little bugs in a jar and showcase them for you.

I thought it had been awhile since I downloaded any videos of the kids. And it has. I was recently relieved to discover that I DO have videos of some of the really cute things my kids have done recently...but don't really do anymore! These videos were taken a month ago. This is how Eden USED to play peek-a-boo. "BEE!" She'd say. Now it's much more of a "Boo!" and she typically hides behind something before saying it instead of putting her hand up to the side of her head.

When Eden was first born, I called her Squeaker. That nickname still has a rightful place as she often lets out tiny, high-pitched squeaks to let you know she's fully happy. She still does this sort of dancing, and I'll have to try again to show you Israel's moves, since he became shy upon sighting the camera. Eden shows off what has become her favorite dance move, the Spin.

Eden is beginning to assert herself, which is fun all on its own. These are the days of repeated, "Use your words...!" However, as I write, she just walked up to me while I gave Israel a cracker and said, pretty clearly, "Moah! Pease!" Maybe it's beginning to pay off. She does not yet use words to keep Israel out of her personal space and seems to resent his hugs and love pats for now. She's just fine all on her own, thanks. She climbs up things (read: stairs, low furniture, backyard swings...), but can't figure out how to get down. She gets mad about being stuck and gets mad when you have to help her crying little self out of the predicament. But I'm afraid of her pride coming before a fall, so I take her against her will. She is full to the brim of personality and loves to cock her head sideways to get you to smile. If she knows she has everyone's attention, she fluffs her clothes and struts around just to show off. If she's being particularly flirty, she may even blow you a kiss!

As you may have seen in the first video, Israel is ever the teacher (and parent, if I'd let him be). Unless you're trying to engage him, he is quite the talker and rambles on and on about recent (and not-so-recent) activities. He asks all kinds of questions. These days, he is very curious about babies in and out of bellies, since our friend and babysitter just had her baby. (If her asks you whether you have a baby in your belly, know he also insists that there is one in his.) He is still tender and nurturing and when Eden shuns his 2-year-old version of gentle love, he goes for one of his stuffed animal "babies." Today, he has carried his Cookie Monster doll everywhere, calling it his baby Ellie (the name of our friend's 2-week-old). He makes sure it's always wrapped in his favorite blanket and that it has its proper seat at all meals. He is becoming a parent to the neighborhood kids who play ball in the street outside our window. "Be careful out there!" he says.

They are both developing in their spirituality, too. Honestly, in ways that surprise me. Israel is so perceptive. Last night before bed, he spontaneously prayed for a girl who is struggling in her school work. I have never talked with him about it, but he obviously has picked up my concern for her. Today at lunch, about halfway through, Israel started thanking Jesus for the food (which we don't do EVERY meal...). Eden said, "A-MEN!"

Amen to that.

two worlds collided

where I spent a couple of hours this weekend

Days like today leave me with many thoughts swirling about, tangling themselves in my head. If one comes out, I'm afraid they will all spill out and plop onto the page. There are many small disappointments that speak doom and many small successes fanning my hope that someday they will add up to something substantial. (Why is it disappointment seems so much more tangible than hope?)

I go through this every time I return here from Kentucky to a greater or lesser extent. I go from being surrounded by the hills, the trees, the extra sets of helping hands afforded by grandparents, and the quiet suburban street where I grew up to the house that needs cleaned, the cars that need mufflers, the projects waiting to be done, the diapers, the noise of kids fighting and threatening to fight, and the relationships that feel more like your next chess move than a book in a cozy chair. It can sometimes be a little too much for a girl.

But, as I was told by a friend recently, I'm ruined anyway, because I am not completely comfortable in the nice and the quiet anymore, either. "We're becoming more like third-culture kids," she said. And she's right. Not at home here, not at home there, but at home with people who know the feeling. Sometimes. I guess I'm not entirely third-culture, either. Is this what Jesus was getting at when He said we live as "aliens and strangers in this world?" Maybe.

I have this never-ending desire to have both worlds -- the white, privileged one and the diverse, under-privileged one -- be together. When I'm alone in the woods, enjoying the sounds of a stream and the flutterings around me, I wish my 12-year-old friend could experience it with me. (But then I wouldn't be alone in the woods, would I?) When I'm here at home, I wish old friends could know the joy of having half the neighborhood (the african-american middle-school girls, the preschoolers from church, the older neighbor who wishes he would've gone to college, and the friend just completing his master's) gather on your front porch -- together -- to see your kids, chat with you, and play with your dog. I wish my friends here could all have the blessing of being taken out to eat at a nice restaurant with their parents. I wish my friends there could have the blessing of receiving a 12 pack of Coke from a youth who brought it to your house because he was just thinking about you when he saw it.

In many ways, then, I have the best of both worlds. And I am glad for that. I'm glad to be able to share both worlds with my children. I'm anxious to see what sort of people this kind of life will make of my kids. My hope is that they will be gracious, generous, thankful, loving, and more naturally accepting of others than me. Heck, I hope those same things for myself in a few years!

But some days it messes with you. Some days I really appreciate the good about both worlds and some days I find it easier to point the finger and despair over the faults of both. Days like today are a mixed bag. There are the adults putting up walls of lies and pride that hinder our relationships with them and with their children. But there's the grandma who is glad to have someone on her team wanting to keep her grandson from failing school. There are the three groups of kids walking the streets, all cursing and talking about fighting each other. But then there's the truly tough boy with his fists up who has his way of letting Pat know he finds comfort in knowing Pat would come to make them talk it out. There's the disappointment of finding out one of "ours" is failing three core classes at school. But there's the joy of seeing her smile when her friends sing "Happy Birthday" to her at her lunch table in school.

But does a song from friends do more to a person than failing in school? Is the grandma's kid really going to do better in school than the hundreds of other failing kids we know?

Just when I think I am going to be overwhelmed, I look back to my time in the woods, away from everything. I remember the little taste of peace. I look around at my neighbors trying against all odds to make life better. I remember that we don't labor in vain. And I look forward to the day when these worlds will collide. I remember the promise of something New. I remember that one day we will all sit around the same dinner table and swap stories. It'll be a new world, then, and we will be aliens no longer, but friends.

me and Israel on our street last summer

Things said tonight at bedtime

We had said our good-nights to Eden. We had a sweet time with Israel telling us he loves us and us telling him that we love him. Pat had just given Israel his hug and kiss and walked out of the room. I gave my hug and kiss and then Israel said:

"Mommy, can you leave so I can cry?"

"What?"

"Can you leave so I can cry?"
"You want to cry?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because...I'm saaad."

"Why are you sad?"

"I'm sad because...I'm scared."

"Why are you scared?"

"Can Jesus help me?"

"Yes. Do you want me to pray for you?"
"Jesus just pray for me?"

"Jesus is always praying for us. Do you want me to pray for you?"

"Jesus just help me?"

"Yes, Jesus can help you."

"Jesus live in you?"

"Yes, Jesus lives in me."

"Jesus live in Eden?"

"Um...I don't know."

"Jesus live in Eden?"
"If Eden wants him to, then He does."

"Jesus live in me?"

"Do you want Jesus to live in you?"

"Yes."

"Well, we can ask Him..."

[interrupts] "Jesus live in Daddy?"

"Yes."

"Jesus just live in Eden and me and Mommy and Daddy and...a lot of people?"

"Yes, Jesus lives in a lot of people."

[without a pause] "We just swim in the boat at the playground?"

We've had a couple of these conversations within a week. Israel is really interested in cause and effect (because) and is curious about how the whole Jesus thing works. Specifically, he had been really concerned about, "Where Jesus?" and "Where Jesus live?" I didn't want to merely answer that Jesus lives in heaven; it makes him sound all far-off and floaty. So I said Jesus lives in a lot of places and He lives in me. I then said it was more correct to say that I live in Him, but Israel didn't latch onto that. So now he's very concerned about who all has Jesus living in them. It makes me curious how much he understands. I think we're getting into some pretty deep water when Israel just totally changes the subject without batting an eye. One minute, I'm digging deep into my theology/philosophy bag and the next, Israel says, "I'm just digging my butt."

treasuring

Eden is now a year old. A whole year. One. When people ask how old she is, I no longer say x-number of months; I say, "She just turned a year." And then it will be, "About a year and a half." And then, "Just about two."

On the same day, Israel hit the two-and-a-half mark. And just before that, I hit everyone's favorite age: 29. (I plan to only spend one year here, though.) It's enough to make a girl feel like the pace of her life isn't in her own control.

Plus, Eden is in the changes-with-each-passing-day stage. I said about a month ago that Eden had made it to "toddler" earlier than I expected. She walks, she talks, she throws fits; she can still fit her size three month onesie. (Okay. The arms are a little short.) The other day, I took out the camera to catch her saying and signing the word, "more." She turned, looked at the camera, and said, unprompted, "Cheese." (More or less...but those of us there knew exactly what she had said!) She says all kinds of things, its seems, and I know it grows exponentially from here as she tries to say everything she hears. For my own records, and to amaze and astound the rest of the world, here are the things she says that I understand:

"Hi!" (especially when pretending to talk on the phone)
"Bye, bye."
"nie, nie" (for night, night!)
"more" verbally and with a sign
"please" verbally and with a sign
"TI, ti!" for "thank you!"
"Mommy"
"Daddy"
"baby"
"Dah!" or "Doggy"
"Ca..." for cat
"Ah nuh!" with a sign that means, "All done!"
"Buh-bwye," which she says for butterfly at the end of the Very Hungry Caterpillar book.
"huh-gy" which she also repeats during a reading of said book
"yeh I duh" which is copied from a book that repeats the line, "Yes, I do!"
"bah" for ball
"buh" for book
"mee-muh" for "banana." She's a creative one. :)
"no..." seems to mean "nose" these days
"No, no!" (Self-explanatory.)

She chuckles when you ask her if she's funny. If she can tell you're asking her a question, she often responds, "No." She's learning to hold up one finger when asked how old she is. She can blow you a kiss, punctuated with a "Mmmm-WAH!" She comes to me with her arms up and gives me hugs while patting my back. She swats at her brother if he's in her way. She laughs if you do it back. She is perfect. And less of a baby each day.

I'm in the wow-is-this-really-the-last-time-I'll-hold-my-baby? stage. So I experiment to find out. Israel is fascinated with babies these days and asks if I have one in my belly (like his babysitter does) and where my baby is. I told him he was my baby and he said, "I'm not a baby." I almost said, "You are, too!" but that would undermine some of our potty-training slogans. So I modified the "big boy" from potty training to "little boy" upon completion of potty training, phase 1 . That makes one little boy and one little girl, whose hair is long enough to require fixing and who thinks she is every bit as old as her brother.

Pat found a bink in the car this week, stared at it, and said, "The days of this thing are numbered." But the days of that thing have been over for some time. They're gone. Eden never really took it anyway and I rushed Israel out of it so I could stop having to put it in his mouth during the night. We won't be needing that anymore. I've given away many things we "won't be needing anymore." Like the exersaucer. And the swing. And the bassinet and the floor mat Israel spent hours and hours on. And the size 4 diapers. (I think Eden will be 6 before she'll need that size!) We didn't even need a carrier for Eden at the Children's Museum! She walked most of the time! The days of so many things are gone.

I often think of the times in the Bible that talk about how Mary "treasured these things" or "pondered them in her heart" or something like that. And I hope I've treasured enough. I try to take snapshots by writing down the words my kids can say. I know the list will seem funny and short in a matter of months. I recently realized that Israel no longer tells me "huh moh-nih" for "good morning" and someday Eden will not play peek-a-boo by putting her hand on the side of her head and saying, "Bee!" And I'll miss it. In some ways I miss it already and I hope writing it down somehow bottles it up and saves it. It's a careful balance to strike between enjoying the moment and saving it for later. Do I run and get my camera when Israel is pretending something really funny or do I get in the floor and pretend with him? How should I treasure these things? Hope you don't mind as I fluctuate between trying to catch it all and trying to just participate in it all.

All that said, here are a couple of captured treasures from life these days.

Eden is the one who initiated this particular action. She is one crazy baby!

This one is a bit longer for those itching for an Eden update. This is a couple of weeks old, but you can get a bit of an idea of what she's doing these days. I wish I could've gotten her to dance for you! It's too cute. Perhaps I'll have to cue the music at a later date.

resurrection

When the snow storm first hit, our family headed outside and built a snowman with our neighbor Steve. It was the first snowman I had ever built and an obvious first for Israel. Coming and going from our house, Israel stops to greet the snowman. He looks really cute staring up at the mass of snow that is a good foot or two taller than him, saying, "Hi, Snowman. I'm just going to go to church and eat dinner. I'll be back. Bye! See ya! Have a good day, Snowman!" or "Hi, Snowman. I'm just going in the house. Good night, Snowman! Have a good evening!" He's been educated on snowmen from Bert and Ernie and has told me, "He no feel. He not cold," but he's still concerned for him and asks, "He cold?" Last night, we went out for an hour and returned to find that one of the neighborhood kids (or maybe two, from the footprints...) had kicked the snowman over. His head and mid-section were thrown back onto the ground, disjointed. Israel nearly cried. "Daddy gonna fix it?!"

----

A few weeks ago, I struck up a conversation with a man at church. "Hi there. How are you doing these days?" I was met with a frank, "Not too good." The man, who is in his fifties and always comes alone, told me how the doctors had found tumors on his lymph nodes. The lymph nodes spread things over your entire body and cancer there is a terrible diagnosis. He explained that the last time he had fought this cancer, it was in stage 2. While not feeling sorry for himself in the least, he told me it would likely be stage 3 this time, meaning it would be terminal. He kept a matter-of-fact grin on his face as he went on about how he had walked these streets for fifty-five years and was about ready for something else. We agreed together that he is safe, no matter what happens to him. We all go sometime, but I told him I don't think I'd like to ever receive news letting me know about when I could expect to make my exit. He bravely reiterated that he's ready to go.

----

The next week, I was out shopping with a girl and received a phone call from Pat telling me that one of our friends had pointed a loaded gun at his face and pulled the trigger to end his life.

----

Last night in the dark, while Israel was asleep, I went outside and re-built the snowman, fixing the places that had melted and spraying it with water to help it stick together. I gave him a new face with a crooked stick smile and an icicle nose. As I was fixing it, I thought, "I won't always be able to undo the wrong in this world for my son, but, darn it, I can fix the snowman!" Israel was pleased to see him smiling in the front yard again this morning. We hadn't named him yet, but Pat decided we should call him Lazarus.

----

Sometime during the week, the man from church went to the doctor. And he was told they found nothing. Nothing. The man who had trusted God as the Taker of his life stood up and praised his Maker who has made him new.

----

About an hour before the phone call from Pat, I had felt the need to pray for God to save our friend and to rescue him again, having no idea that he was buying a gun at that very moment. Right as he pulled the trigger, the blast from the gun thrust his hands back, causing the bullet to graze over his eye.

resurrection.

Eden's growth spurt

Perhaps I should have been more ready for everything, since I did go through all these developmental phases just 18 months ago, but Eden continues to amaze me. With Israel, I remember reading all kinds of word books and sign language books and the like together, anticipating new words all the time. I wasn't really surprised when he had a rather large vocabulary early-on. "We've been working on that," I'd say. Eden, however, sits in on storytime with Israel, reading things with paragraphs and actual plot lines, not getting much of the pointing and saying, "Look at the truck.... Can you say, 'truck'?" She's more left to figure out everything from context and repetition. But recently (as in the last week or so), she's taken to "reading" books to herself, carrying them around the house, turning them over and over to look at them. Two days ago, just for kicks (and because I was curious if she is actually saying the word, "cat" or if we're just imagining it...) I asked her where a cat was in a book. She stuck out her little pointer finger and pointed right to it, saying something a little less clear than, "tuc." I had no idea she knew that.

But today, while she was playing by herself after storytime, she looked at the page and told HERSELF what something was. I had never heard her try to say the word before and then there it was, clear as could be. I happened to still be in the room and ran for the camera. She did it again...and again...and again...for three takes!

I decided to post this one because you can also see some of her other developments of late. She can walk all over the house now, sometimes going the full length of it, stepping over toys and gates without falling. She can turn around on her own and two days ago, she started standing up without pulling up from time to time. Pretty good for just having started walking last week! (Is that right?) Things you can't see in the video are the way she now sometimes says, "Hey!" to greet people, how she tries to imitate all kinds of words (when she feels like it), how she hides her own eyes and plays peek-a-boo, and how she dances on her own to music (bobbing up and down and clapping). Nearly all these things have happened suddenly in the last week. Today, she is 11 months old. Amazing.