It's On

Inspirational song: Shock Treatment (Shock Treatment)

And we are live! They reconfigured the wiring sequence to the solar panels, changing the distribution between the two inverters, and that was the last step before the city power tech installed our net meter. We produced our own electricity on this bright and sunny day! Whether we offset our usage, I honestly don't know. Probably? I still haven't learned how to read the website with the charts and graphs of our system yet. That will come with time, and the mental energy to do the googling. We don't yet have a battery bank hooked up to it, so evenings like yesterday, when the whole block lost power, won't change much. One step at a time.

We went over to the kids' house again today, same as I did yesterday. I sat inside with the baby and watched Anastasia (and she watched some of it) while everyone else was out doing yard work. My little girl has bought her first chain saw, and her daddy was giving her instructions on how to remove a blighted and wind-damaged tree. I'm so proud. Seriously, it has been fun these last few years watching them grow into real homeowners, collecting tools and appliances and the knowledge of how to use and care for them all. In my head, my daughter is still seventeen years old, and reckless as any teenager (maybe more so, because I know who her father is). But lately I've had to come to terms with the fact that she's a grown up, with an advancing career and solid adulting skills. She's a hell of a mom, too. Way better than I was at first.

The landscaping job they are starting is ambitious. They are completely reimagining the front layout, including some sod removal to put in paver walks. I joked about how long before they realize how much they have bitten off, and want to set the project aside for a while. She said she hopes she makes it to August at least. I pointed out we gave up on ours last year by July. Can she last longer than her dad?

Heartbreak

Inspirational song: Somewhere Over the Rainbow (Judy Garland)

This is a somber post. I have sad news to impart. Saoirse's siblings have been getting neutered over the last week, and this morning it was her twin brother Geordi's turn. He had a reaction to the medication administered during surgery, and did not survive. My heart is shattered for the puppies and the dear humans who love them down at the ranch. Geordi was the only other one who looked just like their papa Appa, as Saoirse does. Even with mostly grown Saoirse barking wildly at the whole gang (from her side of then fence) when we visited the ranch two weeks ago, Geordi was a sweet soul and he didn't let Saoirse bait him. Many of the Unicorns have commented on their Twitter tribute to Geordi that he was a special good boy, and one or two admitted he was their favorite. 

I have to confess that it makes me a little nervous about my own baby too. I don't know whether it's because she looks just like him, but now my anxiety over her own spay surgery, postponed to May 11, has increased. When we saw the vet last week, we talked about how Saoirse hates her heartworm prevention pill, and were there other options. She said she can't take ivermectin because she is half Aussie Shepherd, and they react dangerously badly to it. I've let myself conflate the one medication sensitivity to the other, and now I'm just scared. Until she is home and healing in two weeks, I will remain on edge about it.

I wanted to spend tonight talking about the grandbaby again. I watched her for a couple of hours today while her parents went to Lowe's and started some work in the yard. I'll still share a photo or two, but my heart is elsewhere for now.

Ask Me About

Inspirational song: I Will Always Love You (Dolly Parton)

At the large family Thanksgiving we had in Boulder in 2019, my daughter and her cousin both announced pregnancies. It was my kid's first, the cousin's second. As we all mingled and shared congratulations all around, my brother-in-law, the pregnant cousin's father, came up to me to tell me how much I was going to love being a grandparent. I remember him saying, "you love your kids, but you fall in love with your grandkids." I nodded, thinking yeah, but I really love my kids. How different could this be? Oh. A year and a half later, all I can say is I get it now. I think of his prediction almost every time my baby comes to visit. I get to fall in love with her fresh every time I look at her, whether it is the moment we first catch sight of each other on a given day, or as we are saying goodbye for now. I used to laugh at those "ask me about my grandkids" bumper stickers. Now maybe I oughta get one.

I mean, really, you guys. Behold the beauty:

Ignore It

Inspirational song: That Smell (Lynyrd Skynyrd)

Yesterday's migraine is a vague memory now, and a comfortable lethargy remains in its place. Stuff happened around me, and I was content to merely witness it. I cooked a little. I cleaned a little. I watched a pretty cool Rotary presentation. And I ignored the mess that Saoirse is making everywhere she walks. I couldn't find it in me to get worked up over pretty much anything. The net result is while I found enjoyment along the way, nothing stood out as a topic about which to write. Nothing made me mad, nothing made me contemplative. Nothing stood out at all.

Except one thing: That Butt. I have never been around a dog in heat before, so I had no idea how smelly they get. Woof! Of course she has to be right next to me, grooming herself loudly, while I'm watching TV or eating. If only I could have scheduled her surgery for one week earlier, but no. I'm stuck with this smelly sidekick.

Unplugged

Inspirational song: Girls Just Want to Have Fun (Cyndi Lauper)

As expected, Saoirse's vet said to wait for her spay surgery until she is out of heat. She has had one full day of staying inside about 85% of her time, and she already hates it. The surgery was postponed exactly two weeks, and she will have several days afterwards of staying inside to heal. Between spring fever, cabin fever, and (skipping phrase that fits lyrically but seems inherently racist) her biological urges, this dog is going to be insufferable. She does a lot of melodramatic flopping against me wherever we are together (on the bed, at my favorite chair, in the bathroom). Hormones are fun.

For several years now, Botox for migraine has been a game changer for me. It makes life possible. It has to be re-injected every 12 weeks, and somewhere halfway through week 10, its efficacy declines suddenly like someone unplugs a machine. It was bad luck that said metaphorical Botox machine ran out of juice at the same time as I had to spend a full weekend out in the sun. I had a headache and lupus yuck all at once. At one point, as I was melting into my chair, I mumbled that I felt like all my bones had been stolen. By afternoon, all I could do was lie on my side in bed, pressing the right half of my face (where most of my migraines are) into the cooling gel pillow. I used to have to work in offices (or libraries or testing labs...) on days like this, and now I wonder how I possibly did it. Today it was hard just to get one amendment signed for my current real estate deal, and that just meant opening the laptop twice while I was still lying on my bed. 

We missed an opportunity to visit with the younger generations of our local family. Timing didn't work for those who felt like being sociable, and I slept through the invitation to visit. By the time I was awake, the baby was not. I can see myself as a baby in her, especially in profile, but the picture they sent today shows how much she resembles her grandma in repose as well. She napped exactly like I did, just facing the other direction. Like "her batteries died," as her daddy said. Same, baby, same.

Womanhood

Inspirational song: Sunrise Sunset (Fiddler on the Roof)

Baby girl is a woman now. We showed up at Petsmart for the last advanced dog class, and when I looked at Saoirse from behind, I realized that she has gone into heat. I thought she was heading that way at the end of the last class, but this time the signs are unmistakable. I had to carry a paper towel in my pocket to clean up the floor every time she had to do a sit command. I wonder whether this explains her behavior issues over the last week. (She ate one each of the pairs of shoes the Mr had left piled by the front door.) It definitely explains who dripped blood on the kitchen floor yesterday. 

Neither of us have dealt with a dog in heat before. Several of the cats have gone through it over the years, right before their spay surgeries. The other two female dogs we have had came to us already spayed. I told the Mr that Saoirse is to stay in the house until she is in the clear, not hang out in the back yard unsupervised. He looked at me quizzically, and I swore that sneaky dogs would jump our privacy fence to get her. He seemed skeptical, but didn't argue. This evening, while we were sitting in the living room, the first gentleman caller came trotting down the sidewalk. Mr S-P went out to check him out for a collar, but he was a skittish stray who ran off. I hope he believes me now.

The ticking of my puppy's biological clock started at the worst time. She has an appointment to be spayed on Tuesday. I don't know whether they can go through with her surgery until this is over, one to two weeks from now. There is a lot of increased blood flow in that part of her, so it depends on the surgeon and how they approach the procedure. I will call first thing in the morning and get advice. It's possible we will have to entertain her strictly inside the house until her tingly bits settle down. I'm sure that will be a super easy and calm couple of weeks.

Take It Away

Inspirational song: The Weight (The Band)

I went a little overboard today. I told myself that I would put one item in the donation tub every day until it was full. Immediately I missed two days in a row, so I went back and grabbed three things and put them in the bin. Not long after that, I missed another day or two. I more than compensated today. I kept grabbing things: paperback books, hardback books, vases from both florists and Pier 1, swimsuits (one never worn), towels, scarves, hats, and a wine rack. This was on top of the half-full tub that was in the background of most of the Valerie pictures in my living room. I transferred it to boxes and bags, so I could carry it out without hurting myself. But it was three trips with heavy stuff, so with my crummy lungs, I hurt myself anyway. Saoirse and I drove it up to the ARC this afternoon, and I have been riding the high of gaining more than a cubic yard of space from the main floor of the house ever since. It feels incredibly freeing to be rid of stuff, even several things I liked but hadn't used in years.

We had to drive all the way out to Brighton to get Mr S-P's second vaccine, after they canceled his closer appointment from yesterday. Google lied to us, and it took twice as long to get there as we thought it was going to. It was a drive-up vaccination site, so they weren't too worried about us arriving 10 minutes late instead of a few minutes early. I was there in case he reacted strongly right away, and Saoirse was there to be cute and to bark loudly at the great Dane that was barking back at her (endlessly). 

So far he hasn't had a reaction to the shot, other than getting pretty tired. But it was a long day for both of us. I am so glad we are both fully vaccinated now. We may still get the virus someday, but the chances of it landing us in the hospital or killing us outright have just gone way down. What a weight lifted off my heart.

Slow Progress

Inspirational song: The Electric Company (The Electric Company)

Final inspection on the solar panels happened this morning, and we passed. Does this mean we have free power from the sun? Oddly, no. Not yet. From here, we have to wait for the city-owned utility company to come out and install a meter, different than the one we've used all these years. So many steps. So much hurry-up-and-wait. Mr S-P politely said, "They didn't explain this process very well." No kidding. If I were them, I would have wanted to manage expectations better. We should have known going in that the entire gig from start to finish would be roughly two months. 

This was a baby day. For the first few hours she was over, she was pretty quiet. She was active and inquisitive, but not making much noise. Then somewhere in the middle of the afternoon, she took the sound dampeners off. Wow. Baby has lungs. I feel like it is a reflection of how comfortable she is feeling, whether she is chatty or otherwise expressive. She is also past the lots of little naps phase, so it was go-go-go the whole time. There was a lot of independent standing, and walking while holding our hands, but not more than a half step between the ottoman and side table without touching something supportive. 

I'm waiting to see how many more days per week we will be called upon to Grump sit. We have agreed to at least one a week like today, but it may increase. This sure is inspiring me to get rid of clutter from the ground to about hip height. Kid needs room to roam.

Lumps and Bumps

Inspirational song: I Don't Know What You've Got, But It's Got Me (Little Richard)

Pretty sure everything was better before I knew the specifics. I had a follow-up ultrasound on my thyroid this Monday. It was intended as routine monitoring, as directed after the nodules were discovered a year and a half ago. The doctor's assistant called me the next day to say she wanted me to go ahead and consult with the ENT again. Although the three lumps from last year were essentially unchanged (I don't have last year's report handy to be sure), there was a new one. I didn't know how concerned I should be, because I didn't get any more details than that. They said they would submit a referral for the ENT, and I let the assistant go about her business. 

But ever since the ultrasound, I've been tender. The tech pushed really hard with the wand, and I was clenched up in pain for the whole five or six minutes of the scan. (Didn't say anything about it. I doubt she knew she was being literally heavy-handed.) Swallowing hurts. Looking down hurts. I feel like there are giant rocks in my throat. But I have a funny feeling this is mostly in my head. None of this was so distressing before I started paying attention to it. I mean, yeah, I felt pressure there before, just not to the point I couldn't tune it out. 

I got the text allowing me to read the report this afternoon. The smaller nodules from last year are still under a centimeter in length. I don't remember whether there was a discussion about their vascularity on the last report. The new nodule is enthusiastic. Zero to nine millimeters in a year seems like rapid growth. Its mere existence doesn't set off any alarms though. Other than popping up quickly, it sounded pretty unremarkable. Still, I have to jump through the hoops to let the ENT tell me to wait another year. 

I wonder what the thresholds for action are. Total number of nodules, total volume of displacement, or one achieving a minimum length and width? I guess as long as I can still swallow my daily pills, it's not worth getting worked up over it.

Standing Tall

Inspirational song: Reap the Wild Wind (Ultravox)

I shouldn't have passed up the chance to see my girls this afternoon. If I'd spoken up sooner, or gotten a little more motivated later, I probably could have seen them. I got fair warning that we may be spending more time babysitting again soon, so it's not like today was my only chance. It's just that we are getting so close to the first real steps, without holding on, and I like my odds of being able to witness it in person. I also hope to be holding my phone, with the camera setting on video at that moment, but that might be pressing my luck.

We are seeing unsupported standing frequently now. The last time baby was here, we were standing by the back door, watching Saoirse chase squirrels, and I looked down and she was just standing with her hands at her sides for more than ten seconds. When the big wet snowstorm came through Monday, her parents took her outside to see it. They said she bent over to touch the snow, and was so offended by it, she noped herself back into standing out in the middle of the yard.

Tonight we were treated to a video of her standing in the middle of the living room floor, playing with an unopened chewing gum package. Real walking must be imminent. I wonder how many milliseconds will pass between me celebrating the first steps and lamenting the end of the days when I could actually catch her and keep her out of trouble.

Anniversary

Inspirational song: Dazed and Confused (Led Zeppelin)

Four-twenty has a lot of different meanings for everyone. Birthdays, anniversaries of good and bad things, high holy days for a certain subset of people. But for me, it is the date I started this overwhelming experiment. April 20, 2013--the morning after I got my feelings hurt by my circle of friends, I poured my resentment into a blog. Ever since, the nightly ritual has evolved into so many different things. It was a way to keep Mr S-P connected to home while he was in Pakistan. It was a way for me to work out my feelings. It was a memory improvement device. It was a decompression journal. It was a way to tell everyone what was going on with my health without having to type it over and over. It was a celebration. And now, it is a monument to my two new girls who I love to show off. I have wanted to stop so many times. I have opened the app thinking I would write "man, I don't have the mental energy for this," and I end up writing full, complete essays anyway. For all the hassle it is, it is an accomplishment about which I am incredibly proud.

To celebrate, I will do what I always threaten to do, and let myself rest. I'm going to play Mario Kart with the neighbors, and chill out. I'm even stealing my picture from the girls I spent my afternoon with. G'night, friends.

Snow

Inspirational song: Du Hast (Rammstein)

Yet another spring snow has blanketed the land. It moved through quickly, but it packed a punch. They said in places it would be a two-inch-an-hour event. It certainly coated the dogs in a sparkly white decoration in record time. Last I looked, there seemed to be about five inches over the top of my car. I didn't measure, I just glanced out front. 

Before this snow started, the Mr laid down a dense layer of grass seed, in the hopes the snow and mud and dog feet will push it down and encourage it to sprout. Let's hope. Years of Murray's off-road wheelchair tires have destroyed the sod they laid down when they sold us this house. Having actual grass again would make things better around here.

The snow kindly waited until I was done with my obligations before it got bad. I went down for a one-year follow up ultrasound of my thyroid, to see whether there have been any changes. It was way more uncomfortable than last time, so maybe. Or I'm just having a wimpy day. I raced back across town and took Saoirse and Alfred to the vet for their semi-annual exams (included in their care plans I put them on to make surgeries more affordable). They both look good, and they have both gained weight. Alfred is up to 19 pounds, which is still less than it feels when he walks on me. Saoirse is a dainty (compared to her brothers) 67 pounds. I'm honestly surprised. All that fur fools me into thinking she's bigger than she is. I scheduled her spay surgery for next week, so who knows. Maybe she will put on some pudge afterwards. It happened to me...

Social Life

Inspirational song: Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner (Warren Zevon)

In the Before Times, when everything was in-person (meetings, lunches, concerts, parties...), I was a champ at overloading my schedule. I can't count how many times I would look at my week and say out loud to myself, "if I can just make it through the next few days, then I can rest." But it never worked that way. I would constantly add events, eliminating my recovery days. Not all were occasions for dread. It was often fun. It was just tiring, physically and emotionally. The early part of the pandemic was such a nice break from overextended social schedules. Now that half of all adults are vaccinated, and three-quarters or more of us are sick of being locked away from public gatherings, the opportunities for staying home and letting the world pass us by are dwindling. I have caught myself saying that phrase multiple times this month. "I just have to get through this test, vet visit, lunch meeting, and handful of emails..." But I know more crap will just appear at the conclusion of the current round of obligations. It always does.

I wish I could have stayed home and let my body decide how it feels about yesterday's car accident. It wasn't a bad wreck, but it was enough of a jolt to make my soft tissues feel abused. I should have sat in the hot tub and stretched. Instead, I had two short baby visits (keeping her while her parents cared for a friend's cat), Saoirse school, and dinner and a movie with the folks next door. I'm more sore now than I was after we got home last night. I told myself I'd sleep late in the morning tomorrow, but can I really count on that?

It might have cut short my rest and recovery, but playing with the baby was every bit as much fun as always. When she was here alone with me, we played chase around the house. She mostly followed me while I walked around doing everyday stuff, and then I followed her to make sure she didn't get into stuff that might be dangerous. She was louder and clearer in her vocalizations, making the funniest sounds while she crawled. I wish I knew what game was happening in her mind. We are so close to having recognizable conversations with her. She is paying much better attention to the world around her. At the park, she interacted with a little girl who was just over 2, and all of us sized the other girl up, picturing Valerie and what she will be able to do in just over a year. Me, I was hoping that little girl comes back to the park often, so she and Val can grow up as friends. 

Family Reunion

Inspirational song: Home on the Range (Daniel Kelley and Brewster Higley)

There is always that one person at the family reunion who starts a fight. They talk politics or bring up a painful memory or storm out in the middle of dinner and ruins everyone's appetite. (Okay, "always" is a strong word. Go with it.) At this reunion today, that a-hole was Saoirse. Holy cow, did she push a lot of buttons...

Once all of our solar panels were installed, we had to decide what to do with the rest of the equipment. The Mr will take a few to his cabin, and he is thinking of experimenting to see whether he can power the fishpond pump with a few in the yard here. The rest needed to vacate our garage. We loaded up the old farm truck and headed southwest towards the alpaca ranch where Saoirse was born. The Unicorns there are working hard to be self-sufficient and sustainable, and they had a need for more power generating capacity. We brought them everything we had left: panels, mounting channels, conduits, whatever. Anything they can't use, they can recycle, hopefully for money. 

We left early this morning. We hadn't even cleared town before the Mr had to slam on his brakes, propelling Saoirse into the back of my head. We were both a little rattled. Little did we know, that would be a theme of the day. We were in a bit of a snow squall, in the rough section of I-25 between Castle Rock and Colorado Springs that is all torn up for road construction. All of a sudden, both lanes ground to a halt. We barely stopped short of a red Jeep in front of us. The Mini Cooper behind us was not able to say the same. She slammed into us, and had just enough force to push us into a love tap on the Jeep. We three vehicles pulled over and surveyed the damage. (I stayed in the truck with Saoirse.) The Jeep had a scuff on the bumper, and maybe a crack in the Styrofoam that forms it. The truck rear bumper had a noticeable twist to it. The Mini was crunched, but fortunately drivable. We exchanged insurance info, and he called USAA to get our claim started as we followed the Mini to the Springs, to make sure she could get there okay. We then pressed on to the ranch. By the time we were heading back home, the soft tissue soreness was settling in. We both are exhausted and hurting, but not injured more than that. I can only guess how Saoirse feels.

There was too much snow to really show off the ranch to the Mr. You couldn't see the mountain range that makes up their epic view. The dogs were being too obnoxious to wander through to see the alpacas. I could hear a few of the baby lambs in the barn, but I was staying outside of the fence to keep a certain puppy from getting into an actual toothy fight with her siblings.

When we arrived, all the remaining dogs were in the yard. Mama Naga and sister Seven were the most barky and aggressive, so they took them inside. The boys barked, but they were mostly just interested in this familiar looking stranger. Saoirse, on the other hand, was a jerk. Every time Lore (the biggest, most Pyrenees of the remaining puppies) tried to put his paws on the fence, Saoirse gave him an earful. I tried to get pictures, but with all the snow, my Transitions glasses turned the darkest shade they can achieve, and I had to just guess at what I was pointing the camera at. If you account for the fact that Saoirse and I were slightly downhill of the boys, you can still tell she is significantly smaller than her brothers and father. Papa Appa and brother Geordie look like her (but bigger), and Data and Lore are white like their mother, and huge like her. The only other dainty one was Seven, who was technically the runt. I just wish my puppy didn't talk so much smack with her doggie family. I was frankly embarrassed.

Kneaded

Inspirational song: Lean On Me (Bill Withers)

Timing is everything. Last Friday, I was supposed to get a massage, only my second in a year. But when I got in the pipeline to get the vaccine, with very little time to plan, I had to delay my me-time by a week. As I settled in for my massage, I told my regular therapist Slow Hand what I had done. He said he had the shot the day before I did, and it hit him so hard he missed three days worth of work. I got very lucky to already have my make up date, unlike his unfortunate other regulars.

Speaking of massage therapy, I finally did something I have threatened to do for about six years. I scheduled a single hour session (usually do ninety minutes to work out enough knots to be functional), and I am going just to have him work my arms (mostly elbows down), legs (knees down), and scalp. I kept paying my membership all last year, even though I wasn't going in. By doing that, every couple of months they offered me bonus time. I had probably fourteen hours saved up by the time I dared to go back. I can totally burn an hour on just my extremities. I can't wait.

I'm never pain-free, but I have definitely improved today. I am more relaxed than I've been in weeks, even with all the busy stuff going on. It won't take much to knock me back out of whack, but I'm sure enjoying what we accomplished this morning. I was in such a good mood, I made a point of driving over and hanging out with the grandbaby, just to say hi. Now that we are all vaccinated, it is even better being able to drop in all the time. Naturally, I dumped my purse and shoes by the front door, and walked away from them to cuddle the Grump. Didn't have my camera where I was sitting. But the kids dropped by yesterday, to pick up something they left, so I got a few quick pictures, while I greeted her in the car. I hope when she grows up, she appreciates having access to us as much as I did being able to walk to my grandparents' house for lunch every day when I was in middle school. It makes such a difference.

Overcast

Inspirational song: Save It For Later (The English Beat)

Solar install guys were here most of the day again. Their task this time was to connect all the panels to the brain and to hard wire the brain to our router by drilling in through the roof (router is suspended in the dining room). They got a lot done, but there were two panels that just weren't reporting in. They said it was probably because it wasn't sunny today, so there wasn't enough power built up yet. When they left, they said it was their last day, and once the final inspection from the city was scheduled, the other guy from the office would be in touch. I asked the obvious question: so once the inspection is done, then we go live? He kind of thought about it, started to say no, there was something about net metering to do, and then checked himself. Our town has a city-owned utility (the reason we couldn't do one of those lease systems they always try to offer in Costco), and he didn't know the rules for that. So I honestly have no idea when we will be generating our own electricity. The cool news is there is an app we can use to monitor it, I guess via that internet connection they put in this afternoon, and the Mr set up our account and showed me. It has a grid with each individual panel, and whether it's actively charging or fully charged, and other data about our production and usage. This is going to be fun to watch. I just wish the time to go live would finally get here. It's like each step just leads to two more steps, and we never approach the event horizon.

I did find it funny that on the day we were learning whether the panels were communicating and charging, it was overcast all day, and snowing for most of that time. It's one of those slushy spring snows that don't really add up to much more than a lot of mud. I love days like this, but just this once, I wouldn't have minded a little sunshine.

Stand It

Inspirational song: Demolition Man (The Police)

There is a reason I meter my activity so strictly. It's too easy for simultaneous actions to swamp me and make everything too difficult to finish. Take today, for example. I was babysitting while tying up the loose ends of the real estate deal and prepping for a long phone meeting with my new medical case manager. Everything had to happen basically at once. I was trying to create a counter proposal and get it signed, while a grabby baby swore up and down that she needed to run her hands on grandma's laptop. During my phone interview, I tried to speak quietly to avoid ending baby's nap too early, and the whole time I could hear notifications of my email and group chats blowing up. It didn't take long to put me in sensory overload. I had to block everything out and work only one thing at a time. Still I ended up with a headache and dyspepsia. Ugh.

Still, having that baby around is worth a little tension. She is just too much fun. She is so observant, and her memory is sharp. She knows where to find the good stuff at grandma's house, like every kid ever. I'm going to have to set my place up like every grandma, with a stash of crayons and paper in one closet, and all the cool toys in another, with a stack of kid books in a corner.

It was rough getting the Grumpus down for her nap, but once she went down, she was conked out for something like two hours. She woke up with a maxed out diaper, and a perfect excuse for a bath. She was all cute and sweet-smelling when her daddy came to get her. While we were talking, she was standing between us, playing with the wrapper from her teething crackers. She got distracted by it, using both hands to crinkle the wrapper. She forgot to hold on to support her standing, and so she just stood there. It happened several times, enough for me to eventually catch it in a picture. Still no unsupported steps, but I'll take standing as a win.