Delphine's first birthday was two Mondays ago, on the tenth. We had a special dinner with cake and jelly, and I already put up pictures in the gallery so I bet you already know about it. It was a good birthday, I think, as first ones go.
This Monday was her one-year checkup, to be examined and jabbed with a million tiny needles. Well, three, but it seemed like more. She got the usual MMR plus Varivax for chicken pox and Menjugate for meningitis. The two latter shots were not covered by OHIP so we had to pay for them to the tune of over $200, which was a bit of a shock. Hopefully Blake's insurance will cover them. Ironically yesterday afternoon the government announced that they will cover those two vaccines in the future.
She was weighed and measured, and found wanting (God, that was a bad movie!) -- 22 lbs and 30" which are a little lower than perhaps they should be according to her growth curve. The doctor wasn't sure if that's just her normal curve or if indeed she isn't growing as she should be, but she encouraged me to feed her more. I hadn't been giving her snacks -- coming up with three nutritious, interesting meals a day is hard enough -- but I'm starting now. I picked up a bunch of meal plans from various daycares at a daycare and pre-school expo a couple of weeks ago; they're meant to assure you that your kid is being fed properly while they're in care, but I'm not above stealing their ideas.
When I got home from the doctor feeling somewhat chagrined that I am not feeding my baby properly, I found in a mailbox a big blue envelope addressed in my brother's beloved chicken-scratchings. He sent a card and a gift card for Indigo for Delphine. I opened the card and bawled my face off for a few minutes; it was one of those times when you've been needing to cry for a day or two and then something innocent sets you off. I just pictured my little Dave in front of a rack of cards picking one out for Delphine and he's SO SWEET! I'm a mess.
I love that Dave sent her a bookstore gift certificate. For one thing I've been wanting to get her some more books but just haven't had the ready cash to do so, but also Dave and I always, always, always get a book for birthdays. Always have, always will. It's good to continue that tradition, especially since Blake and I totally dropped the ball. (We only budgeted $30 for Del's birthday, which clearly isn't going to be enough, since kids books are around $15 which leaves a measly $15 for a present. Argh. Hopefully we'll have more income next year and we can loosen up the budget a little.)
What's the little monster up to, you ask? Well, she's amazing. I feel like I've fallen in love with her all over again in the last few days, like I have a big old crush on her. I suspect this crushing will come and go over the next... oh, hell, for the rest of my life, probably.
She's almost walking; she can stand unassisted for a few seconds, and she walks with her little pushy wagon thing my parents sent her for Christmas. I don't think she's really keen to walk because she can get where she wants to go crawling. She does love to climb, though; she climbs onto chairs and toys and the aforementioned pushy thing. She climbs the stairs to the slide at the park, and then slides down feet-first, tummy down. Then she climbs up the slide, which is varyingly effective depending how much clothing she's wearing.
The climbing is alarming because it makes me realize how much trouble she could get into, between falling and getting into stuff she's not supposed to get into. Toddler-proofing is going to be way harder than baby-proofing.
She's not showing any signs of talking, although she's got a good repertoire of phonemes. She doesn't understand any words, apart from her name and "No". This is perhaps a little delayed, but still within normal parameters. I feel like I am expected to worry about that, but I'm not worried. I'm glad she's not a tiny prodigy; I don't want her to be special, I just want her to be happy. Dave and I were special when we were kids, and I don't think it bought us much happiness.
And all in all she is happy and well and lovely. People still comment on how well-behaved she is, and how pretty, and I tend to agree.