She can stand for ten or twenty seconds at a time, but only if she has a toy in each hand to make her believe she’s holding onto something. This usually ends with her banging the toys together and toppling back into a sit. At which point she glances around with mild surprise.

She’s ready to walk, but on the whole she prefers to swarm. If she’s in someone else’s arms and I happen to walk past, she’ll defy gravity, wiggle into my arms and beat me triumphantly on the breast. She’s a swarm of one.

She’s tiny and dense, in that she weighs one million kilograms. Our little neutron star.

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