The little lady is 9 months old today and hitting the milestones out of the park. Forget “pulls herself up to standing,” the girl started standing on her own a couple of days ago. She’s experimenting with some signs (milk, more, bye-bye), and says “Ma ma ma ma,” whenever she needs me/milk/comfort, and is thinking of going pro with the pincer grasp (which she’s been perfecting on my neck for the past couple of months).
She is (clearly) rocking the whale spout hair-do and, until Saturday, was a one-toothed wonder. Tooth #2 is poking up next to the first one and making the routine mouth swipe to dislodge her favorite food (paper) quite treacherous. She used to be tall (>90th %ile), but she’s now at about the 65th in height. She’s 65th in weight as well, and is looking to become about as average as the rest of our family. Surprise!
And, of course, she’s a delight. She’s delightful when she pulls all the tupperware and plastic ware off the shelf while I’m making dinner. She’s delightful when she finds the boys’ magazines and tears them to shreds. She’s delightful when she finds every single tiny bit of whatever on the floor and puts it in her mouth. She’s delightful when she chases her brothers around and when she laughs at them and when she snuggles up to me before she falls asleep. She’s a total delight. I’m not even kidding.