notes for the baby book.

Morning, chickadees!

We’re steadily moving toward a nice little break here in Chicago-land, and I’m certainly looking forward to the weekend, when my sister finally, finally gets here and also stays put right in my zip code for over a week.

Merry Christmas to me.

In other news, Boo has officially (unofficially? Who knows.) reached the age at which he is In Everything.

This morning, I mentioned to JW that I wish I had taken a moment to write this in the baby book.

I’m not very good at the baby book, even though Theo’s my first and that’s when you’re supposed to be able to keep track of things.

I’m not really sorry about it.

We’re very busy playing.

Anyway, what I actually said is that I wished I had noted in the baby book when Theo turned into a savage beast.

Nine months? I guessed, as I tried to gently redirect him from slamming his head into ceramic tiles.

More like eight-and-a-half, JW mused.

He’s the numbers guys.

Boo’s endless energy, extreme curiosity, and still fairly tiny size mean that he’s a perfect candidate for getting into spaces he shouldn’t and doing things he’s not allowed to do.

Like a mouse.

For instance, at this moment, instead of playing with his one million toys on his fuzzy sheepskin rug, he appears to be in his closet, pulling out hidden kitchen trays (hey, we have limited storage) and getting wedged behind the door by his rocking chair.

Don’t let this face fool you chickens, he’s up to no good.

photo (2)

It’s a good thing he’s adorable.

Keep it easy, you guys, and bundle up.


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