Sunday Paper

I’ve decided to do a weekly recap that includes all the big (and little) highlights of the week (that I haven’t already blogged about). Brew yourself a cuppa whathaveyou and sit a spell.

Melinda captured us. Yep, mom's definitely having a bad hair year.


At The Sanctuary Family Picnic, you have your first extended encounter with dirt. I let you crawl around on the grass/dirt/ground, and you were fascinated. Not hesitant at all, you plunged your hands into the earth, rubbed them all around, and were content. I was talking with other moms whose babes didn’t like the tickly, prickly¬† feel of grass on their hands and knees. Not you. You are a true earth sign, I reckon.


We ordered you a potty. Let the games begin. The plan is to put you on it after you wake from naps and first thing in the morning, before we put on a fresh diaper. Just let you check it out.


You woke up from your morning nap crying with your entire front torso soaked (not pee, drool?). Think I see your top two teeth trying to poke through but could just be momimagination. (Found out later that torso was soaked from the bottle dad fed you before your nap.)


NOT my momimagination. You have two tiny nubbins up top, and the left side is just poking through. No wonder you were biting so much yesterday!


Biggest eating day ever. Hummus, banana, figs, tofu, cucumber, and roasted potato.


You love to stretch your legs and feet in the stroller. You point and flex your tiny baby feet and stick them straight out like you want to fly out of the stroller feet first. My little dancer.


Coming home from our afternoon walk, I saw your dad’s car parked out front. He beat us home, which never happens. When we got outside the front door, I looked at you and said, “You want to go inside and see daddy?” You looked right at me and said, “Daddy.” I could scarcely believe it. Dad heard it through the door and confirmed what you had said. Made our day.


Nine months old today. More and more you are clearly talking to me, and it’s a challenge for us both to not be able to communicate verbally yet. You are also signing, but I don’t know what the signs mean. Hang in there, buddy! Mom will smarten up soon!


I’m letting you nap for as long as you want. 2 1/2 hours and counting. I’m nervous, but am thinking maybe you’re transitioning to one nap from two…we’ll see.

Update: You didn’t nap again. You slept maybe ten minutes in the car. We put you down to bed at your normal time and you slept normally. Giving up that second nap…?


Mama cut off her hair. Well, she didn’t, a professional named Carissa did. In Hollywood.

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