Basically in one week, our little baby girl has pulled herself up in her crib, started feeding herself puffs by the handful, and maybe, just maybe, said Momma. She is terrorizing the dogs now that she is on the move. They leap from couch to chair to other chair and finally give up, leaving the room altogether. They still, however, seem to muster up the courage to sit under her highchair at mealtime, as puffs fly through the air freely. I think the ratio of puffs eaten to puffs flung is about 50:50. Cheese is another matter, however. It is pure accident if any cheese falls to the floor. SB loves cheese. She is a junkie and cheese is her crack. It brings squeals of unbridled joy as well as cries of protest when Mommy is too slow on the draw. Mozzarella, Gouda, Cheddar, American. The girl does not discriminate. She is definitely my daughter.
Now that she is mobile, she is not stuck playing with whatever Mommy puts in her hand. Oh no, she roams about to discover her own 'toys' such as her bedroom door (look Mommy, I can slam it shut!) and the diaper genie. Her floor is littered with colorful objects of every shape and size with funny faces that make funny noises, yet she is wildly interested in pushing the diaper genie around. She also loves my dirty old Rainbow flip flops. I wear them at home all the time, but as soon as I kick them off, she makes a beeline for them and has these prized possessions in her hands before I know it. I tried to trick her and give her a pair of clean flip flops I never wear, but she is obviously Mensa smart because she was not fooled. Again, definitely, my daughter. ; )
No comments:
Post a Comment