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23 Fine Motor Her chubby fingers are surprisingly deft, save the left pinkie. Missing the middle crease, the doctor said. It lifts as she raises her cup at lunch, the way Gran always held her juice glass at this same kitchen table. At two days old, our child was the doctors’ trophy, a specimen in the display case of her isolette. From what we were told, we never expected such finger skills, her delicate way with puzzles, her grasp of crayons. Good, Stella! I say as she turns, shirt-front only slightly wet, and the cup lands on the table, something right-sideup for a change. ...

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