Baby Steps

It's official.  We have a toddler on our hands.  10 months is simply too early to walk, in my opinion.  But she has other ideas, apparently.  Her baby steps are becoming steadier by the day.  Her adorable crawl is seen less and less frequently.  She has actual bruises on her bum.  Which are doing nothing to deter her.  I imagine the bruises are caused by her relentlessy rambunctious antics in the bath.

She's got a voluminous vocabulary of three words.  Dog.  Book.  Hi.

There's just no keeping this girl down.

Especially when we hang her from the clothesline.

But she does a pretty good job of  getting herself up.

The current method of staving off her pre-bedtime fussiness is to strip her down and let her wave her clothes around.  It never fails to delight her.

Grass, however, does NOT delight her.

Nor does being delayed when she wants to be picked up by the AllSpark.

That would be me.  The AllSpark.  That's what Shaggy and the kids call me whenever their care of B is not good enough for Her Royal Fussiness.  When nothing but the source of all goodness (again, me) can ease her pain.

She's a handful, though not nearly as much as she used to be.  She delights us.  We adore her.  Such a beautiful symbiotic relationship.