'the best parents in the world still can't control their children all the time. That's why they're children. If you've got a little person living with you who always acts like a tiny little adult, well, you've got a dwarf on your hands, scamming you for free food.' (Rob Rummel-Hudson)
We have to go out today to buy half a birthday cake, because today is Caitríona's six-month birthday. Hard to believe it's all of six months ago since we sat in the hospital waiting to see if she was going to live and waiting to see if she was going to develop without any complications.
She's big now, and even though she seems impossibly light to hold, she's twice the weight she was when she was born, and every day she seems to be a different person, with different movements and gestures that were not there yesterday. When we wake up in the morning she looks over and smiles to see us awake, and when her brother clowns around, banging on the table, she chortles like it's the funniest thing ever, which in her case is true.
Sometimes she screams and wails. Sometimes we know why, and at other times we can just guess. Sometimes the screams go away after a second when she's distracted by something else. Sometimes they go away for a moment but she's just taking a rest. Sometimes she seems to freak out at nothing at all.
Last week we bought her a Discovery Ball. This is a round plastic ball that has a blue light inside and when you press a button it recites the letters of the alphabet in a female American accent. She played with it gingerly for about thirty seconds, then burst into tears and was inconsolable for ages afterwards. Later we tried the Discovery Ball again, and each time she burst into tears on cue. My guess is she's made the discovery that it's inhabited by aliens who come out at night when the rest of the family is asleep. Now that I look at it, it probably is inhabited by aliens.
On the other hand, they can't be very technologically advanced if so far they've only managed to master the alphabet.