Eight months old! I can’t believe it. This smooshy girl is happily wearing 12 month clothes, while laying contentedly on the floor without even the faintest desire to sit, let alone crawl. A bottom tooth surfaced last Friday — tada! No fever or crankiness or anything. Just a little sharp spot.
She rolls everywhere and finds the teeniest bits of junk to put in her mouth. Jameson’s task of vacuuming has been bumped from do-it-because-Mama-gets-twitchy-otherwise all the way up to LIFE-SAVING MUST!!
She goes bananas when her daddy walks in the door, doing her very best to compete with mobile siblings for his notice. She is thrilled to be carried by Jameson from room to room, despite his seeming awkwardness. She knows how to turn on the drama, whether it be a cheesy smile or fake sob. Mostly, though, she’s just happy to be — be in my arms, be among her siblings, be here with us, being a part.
(Don’t know where she gets that double chin. HAHA.)