Rebecca is nine months old, and she has all sorts of new tricks this week, which I’m sure are designed to put another 20 gray hairs on my head and shorten my life span by at least 5 years.
Yesterday morning she fell off the bed when I left her unattended for barely a second. I was watching the whole time, but I couldn’t grab her leg fast enough when she went head-first into the floor in pursuit of her paci that had fallen.
Although she is mobile by scootching around on her bottom, she refuses to crawl, and she will actually maneuver herself into a sitting position from her stomach when she finds herself in that undesirable predicament.
Fortunately not all her new tricks are causing me heart palpitations. She can finally roll from back to front, so she doesn’t get herself stranded like a turtle on her back in the middle of the night.
C has all the attitude and independence of a three-year-old drama queen. She goes from snarky to delightful in a matter of seconds, and one never knows what to expect from her. It’s a woman’s prerogative to change her mind, eh?
My mother finds the situation hilarious. I guess it’s a case of poetic justice, as I evidently tormented her the same way my daughter is tormenting me.
She really is hilarious though. The things she comes out with just crack us up, which probably saves her life on many occasion. She loves bubbles and playing with her Bitty Baby and is also quite fond of riding her tricycle up and down our sidewalk.
At six-and-a-half, the D seems to be growing right before my eyes. He is generally sweet and respectful and is happiest when he has a baseball in his hand. He spends hours throwing the ball against the house and catching it, and now that Grammie gave him a “pitch back” he uses that to practice and thus saves our vinyl siding from the peril of the baseball. He follows the Phillies avidly and can tell you stats about each player.
Besides baseball, he also loves his video games, and his favorite is of course Major League Baseball. As much as C reminds my mom of me, D reminds Paul’s mom of him. He is a real chip off the old block, evidently.
I love having this blog to record the kids’ milestones and interests! I am not one to keep a journal, and I didn’t know if I’d be able to keep up with bloggin, but it really is a fun little hobby. I can’t believe it took me all these years to start one.