pletely lost it. She's walking around wearing some kind of weird white jacket with buckles on the back, saying "I can't take it anymore." I try to help her, but my words of comfort seem to only come out in loud cries. I follow her around everywhere, crying, of course. (Oh, I've been crawling for a month now--I'm pretty much the Jackie Joyner Kersee of crawling).I love my mommy. She, however, doesn't seem to appreciate my athletic abilities. I can pull myself up on anything. I do this all day long. I just can't sit still. Life is too much fun. I do hurt myself a lot. Boy, I hate that crib thing. I like to ram my head and face into the rails--anything to get mommy's attention. She always gets me out. Works like a charm. Now, she's afraid to put me in the crib during the day so she holds me while I take my naps. Her arms over the lonely crib...you would do the same, believe me.
I love, love, love food. It's a good thing I move a lot or else I would be quite beefy. I have two teeth and should be getting some more soon. That probably explains why I chew on everything. Today, my mom caught me teething on the toilet. She said that was pretty much the most disgusting thing she had ever seen. It felt so good to my gums though. I find new things to teethe on all the time. One day, I was lying in my parents bed and I woke my mom up by chewing on her arm. If it's near my mouth, I'm going to chew on it.
So, I've survived my first 8 months. Not sure how much longer my parents are going to last (yes, I'm driving my dad crazy too). Not even sure if my sisters can handle me either. I'v
e pretty much already passed Brooklyn up. One down, one to go. When are these people going to learn that if they give me what I want, feed me, hold me and pretty much give me their undivided attention, everything will be fine and dandy? Am I asking too much? I don't think so.
