Mar. 11, 1922
Have learned several new stunts.
ITEM: “How big is the baby?”, some one asks me: —and up go my arms full length above my head. —Great Aunt Elizabeth taught me this. She came to us just a week ago, and will be here at least another week.
ITEM: When Father is giving me my supper he says, “Come down and be kissed,” and I bend forward so he can kiss my manly brow. I love this—and so does he!
ITEM: I clap my hands at the word of command—or even for “Pat-a-cake!”
ITEM: Haven’t learned to wave good-bye yet, very well; but I can say “Hello!” beautifully, with a vast and friendly smile.
Went with Mother and Great Aunt Elizabeth to Mrs. Shearsby’s for lunch yesterday and had a fine time playing with little Pen. There was a time when he was bigger than I was, but now I’m the bigger.
Mar. 6, 1922
My first real creeping! I have’t quite gotten the hang of the thing yet, ’cause I can only manage to go backward: but I’m sure that all I need is time and practice. Even so, it’s great to be able to move about all by yourself. There are many fascinating corners I’ve got to explore—and I have always wondered what was underneath the chairs and couch and beds and things!
Mar. 5, 1922
One year ago today Mother and I came home from the hospital. I remember that it was good fun in the hospital with all the other little babies, but I’ve had a much happier time at home! I shall advise all babies to live at home with their parents.
March 1, 1922.
The painter left us today—hooray! We’re all so sick of the mess and the smell of paint. I’ve spent long hours on the roof or at the Chews’ or Deweys’—and I am very well. My parents kind o’ feared the effect of the paint on me, but they minded it a lot more than I did.
Feb. 27, 1922
A painter has been in the house since the 23rd—and the place is a mess! Haven’t much chance to write up my diary these days.
Father has a bad cold and doesn’t give me my regular nightly walk-around, for fear of giving me a germ. I’m sorry both for him and for myself!
Feb. 22, 1922. Washington’s Birthday.
Another perfect night: 7:00 to 6:45, not even being lifted “for gas.”
This being a holiday, Father has been home all day. He took me out to Bedford Park and afterward we called on Grandmother and Aunt Sara.
I am very well again, thanks be! Mother says I’m going to talk pretty soon—but I’ll probably take my time about it, as I usually do! Of course, I’m learning new sounds all the time and I know a lot of things people say to me; but I’ve found out that the more you don’t understand, the more you can have your own way:— and that’s me, Al!
Feb. 20, 1922.
Out of doors for the first time in ten days! It’s been a balmy day and Mother and I were on the roof for three hours.
Feb. 19, 1922
Went up to the Chew’s this afternoon for tea, with my parents and grandfather and Aunt Nora. Aunt Nora and I waltzed and fox-trotted again together. I love the waltz, but I don’t care much for the fox-trot.
I’m learning rapidly to drink out of a glass. It’s still more or less of a game and I like to blow the water all about, but it is babyish to be fed water with a spoon—and I’m over a year old now!
Feb. 15, 1922
Had a perfect night, sleeping from 6:45 P.M. to 6:15 A.M. My cold is ever so much better, but I couldn’t go out today because it has been snowy.
Feb. 14, 1922. St. Valentine’s Day.
Clarence Conner calls me “Abraham Valentine” because I was born midway between Lincoln’s Birthday and Valentine Day!
Valentines came to me from “Aunt” Mabel Daggett (who sent me my very first valentine last year), little Dorothy Bliss Chew, Mrs. Rundle, Aunt Nora.
I’m not quite sure, but I think I have learned to wave “good-bye” to people. Only I wave both arms madly—and it’s great fun!