The Family *roll

I’ve been pretty good at avoiding the whole my-child-is-a-genius trap, haven’t I? So you owe me this: Eleanor has rhythm. She has really tuned into music lately and will beat her drumstick (or wooden spoon, as shown) in a fairly good approximation of whatever beat is playing. Eleanor and I have been getting together with two other moms and their kids each week to play guitar and sing songs and she loves it. She has a great move where she flings out her right leg and brings it down on the floor to keep time. She also has a thing for maracas and any other shakers (pill bottles, her father’s retainer container). My favorite is when I read her Mother Goose rhymes and she rocks her whole body when she picks up on the rhythm of the verse.

Her best moves, however, are in the high chair. We listen to a lot of NPR and during dinner-time Marketplace or All Things Considered, she will jiggle, bob and jerk during the musical interludes between news segments. It makes for very brief but joyful highchair dance sessions. I love that she instantly recognizes that music is playing and thinks to herself “I better get going because these lefty fools only play music for 15 seconds”.

Today Eleanor and I are dancing to celebrate Granny D’s birthday. She is in France, poor thing, and we are so sorry to miss it but can’t wait to see her at the end of the month. I’m not much of a dancer but my mother is so I will entrust Eleanor’s dancing education to her.

Boring update: I was scheduled to have my wisdom teeth out on Thursday since one of my wisdom teeth grew in after Eleanor was born (strange, no?) and I was supposed to have them all out. My oral surgeon’s car ran into a deer on I-35 (he’s OK) and they brought in a new oral surgeon who decided that I only needed one tooth removed instead of all three. So the whole thing was a lot easier and cheaper than anticipated. I’m doing great but I look goofy and lopsided and I’m high as a kite on Vicodin. And I love that deer.