Eight month Anne-iversary

The stats: I'm just a plain old healthy little girl. I'm too big for my bouncy chair and big enough for a high chair. I'm too big for the baby carrier, but not big enough to sit facing forward. I'm big enough to aggravate my brother, but not big enough to play with him. And I fit perfectly in my mom's arms, but I never lie still.

Best friends: My brother, of course. I light up whenever he walks into the room. Now, for some reason or another, he doesn't seem to share the same enthusiasm for me. I've heard that Mark always says nice things about when I'm not around, but not so much when I show up near his toys. Despite the fact that he made a rule that he can play with any of my toys whenever he chooses, there doesn't seem to be reciprocation. He's constantly worried I'm going to grab his letters, his cars, his markers, his Presidential flash cards, his math game...actually, now that I think about it, a Presidential flash card would be pretty tasty. Mmmmm....presidential flash cards. Yum. I won't eat them. Maybe just gum them up for a little while. Mmmmm....

Enemies:  Can you even imagine what it would be like if bits of hard bone started erupting out of your body? What if you were just sitting there, minding your own business, laughing at a sock, when teeth started growing right out your hands or ears? Wouldn't feel too good, would it? Well, it doesn't feel much better coming out of your mouth. Trust me on this. I've got two on the bottom and a batch more popping out on the top. They hurt! So, sure, I cried. For like a minute or two. But that's a lot for me!

Favorite place: My favorite place is....right...over...there. No, wait. It's ... right ... over ... there. In fact, it's wherever I see somet

hing I can grab. (And I have some laser vision. I can spot a speck of paper at 500 yards.) So, my whole house is now my favorite place. I just slap my hands down on the ground and drag myself all over the room. Dad says it's not an official crawl because I don't lift up belly, but what does he know? He hasn't crawled in, like three centuries. He's really very old.

Things I like: I like to eat people's faces. One of my favorite people's faces to eat is my cousin, Hannah. Whenever I look at her I think: "That girl is adorable. I think I'll just grab her cheeks and munch on her nose." Hannah doesn't seem to understand why this is fun. She's quite terrified by it, actually. But do I let that stop me? No way!

Things I don't like:  As I mentioned before, laying still is generally pointless. I have places to go. And I don't care if I have to dive out of an adult's arms to get there. It doesn't matter to me if I'm having my diaper changed or my parents are dressing me. I don't even care if I don't know where I'm going. I just have to go! Right now!

Major accomplishments: I almost wave a little, which I think is hilarious. I babble, which I think is hilarious. I've worked out an incredibly high pitched scream, which I think is hilarious. I found a little girl who looks just like me in these big glass windows in the bathroom. I think that little girl is hilarious. 

Quotation Mark Mondays: Words of wisdom from the back seat

Mark, randomly, while riding in the car:
Mark: "I just ate dirt!"
Matt: "What? Where did it come from?"
Mark: "I don't know. Maybe my shoe."



Mark had been quiet for approximately 15 seconds, so Matt checked on his health and well being.
Matt: "You OK back there, buddy?"
Mark: "Yeah, I'm just being a quiet dude."

Anne of Fridays: Adventures in Eating

At Anne's 4 month check-up, our pediatrician gave us the green light to start feeding with a spoon.  So far, her diet is restricted to rice cereal and some pureed veggies.  Anne herself has not been terribly excited about these new options.

Mark, on the other hand, is pumped.  He really enjoys feeding her.

Matt and Lynne are also excited.  At some point, we told Mark that once Anne started eating food, we were going to stop making him separate dinners of chicken nuggets, pizza, or spaghetti.  Mommy, we explained, is tired of cooking him separate food, and she is certainly not going to cook THREE dinners.  Once Anne starts eating, we all eat the same thing.

Mark, of course, took this very literally.  As soon as the doctor gave Anne permission to eat, Mark started asking to try what we're eating.  Then we tapped into his competitive streak. 

"You wouldn't want Anne to be able to eat more things than you, right?"  we say.  "You wouldn't want Anne to be a better trier than you, right?"  "You'd better hurry up and try more foods--she's going to catch up!"

So far, our mind games seem to be working.

Photo Bonanza, Part 3: Spaghetti

 Trying spaghetti--and getting it all over yourself and the floor--is a normal rite of passge for kids.  Our Weird Eater didn't try it until a few weeks ago, but he loved it.  Especially the noodle slurping part.