8 months old

Well howdy, eight month old lady!

You are the lover of raspberries - in solids and with your tongue. Speaking of that tongue, I'm worried that you will forget how to use your hands as your tongue seems to function as an appendage, curling up toward your nose, searching the wind for the scent of your prey, perhaps? You love to wave at people...and at animals and shadows and lint and light fixtures. You are an indiscriminate waver yet surprised when people wave back. Strange women love to wave at you and invariably tell you you have gorgeous blue eyes and the longest lashes they have ever seen. Then they start in with the whole modeling thing and I have visions of you and a 50 year old Tyra Banks barking at you to be FIERCE and I get the heebie jeebies.

You've been saying ma ma ma ma a bit. Mostly da da da da and EEEEYYYYAAAAAAATHESOUNDOFSOMEONETRYINGTOSAWMYLEGOFFWITHABUTTERKNIFEIFICAN'TNURSEATTHEEXACTMOMENTIWANTO. You usually save that one for night time, when the ladies at target can't hear you scream. We've had a rough month, you and I. The separation anxiety seems to have passed for now. You will allow others to hold you. And apparently you read my blog because exactly 2 nights ago, you started sleeping better. I'm really hoping this has nothing to do with the Zoloft I'm taking because I'm really enjoying the one feed a night down from the 6 or 7 we had going there all month. Of course, my boobs don't know what the hell is going on, but who's complaining?

You seem on the verge of something big as you apparently needed to stock up for the winter. You are standing - with help - but once you are up that is all you, baby. You can roll something crazy, and now that you can hang on your belly for a bit, maybe you might start crawling. Not that I am in any rush. Just saying.