Since last we met, Gabrielle has taken not one, but two plane trips. Unfortunately, neither one was under the best of circumstances, and we have since lost our much beloved Auntie Margaret to cancer. Words cannot express how much Margaret is going to be missed, she who was my favorite aunt, biggest cheerleader, and best critic. She was a big part of shaping who I am today: independent to a fault, smart, efficient, and no-nonsense. It was never enough to bring home a report card with a perfect score in Music if there wasn't excellence in Math and Science as well. She was very demanding, and such a hard worker, but played as hard as she worked -- another quality that she imparted to me. So here's to you, Auntie Margaret, showing St. Peter et al how to lime properly.
Gabby was baptized in October, and we had a family celebration to mark the occasion. Her godparents are Diana Alonzo Watkins, soon to be welcoming her own little bundle of joy as well, and Kenneth Ellis. I will have to post photos later, but the little stinker was the only baby who screamed when the water was poured on her head. According to my cousin's husband, that is the mark of the devil leaving her!
Recently, we have discovered that we have a bit of a daredevil on our hands. When she is on the floor, she is content to crawl about as though that's her only way of getting around, but when she is on an unstable surface, watch out! That's when she practices standing and taking steps. She loves the bed and the changing table for this -- *sigh*. We have also been doing battle with Gabby, trying to get her to sleep in her own bed. It's not that I don't love having the little furnace in bed next to me on a nightly basis, but I sleep much more comfortably when she is in her own bed. To that end, I've been chronicling my attempts to train her to sleep by herself, with much entertainment to my mother. I will re-post those Facebook notes in a separate post, potentially with the comments made by mommy dearest.
This was also Gabby's first Christmas. We went to Sears and took these photos:
Of course, no first Christmas would be complete without a visit to Santa. When she got to him, she sat in his lap and looked at me as if to say: who is this dude, and why am I supposed to not pitch a fit about this right now? But she consented to a photo:
It's now January, and almost time for our annual trek to Trinidad for Carnival, where we will also be celebrating the little monkey's first birthday. How time has flown! Hopefully by then she will be sleeping in her own bed...
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