Just munching on a pear like it ain’t no thang
I went on strike this week. Milk strike. I think Mum was a little stressed. I have been focussing my energy on other important things like sticking out my tongue on cue, sucking in my cheeks to do a fish face, and trying to hang my head upside down (stuff looks different when you do this!). I’ve also become more snuggly and ‘snarfly’ and bury my head into Mum or Dad if there are strange new people around.
This week’s excellent new skillz include clicking my tongue and an Indian war cry, and if I drop something, I can bend down to pick it up again. I hate sitting in both the walker and bouncer thing that are now in my house, but I do like to stand next to them and play with the activities (that way when I’m tired of it I can just leave when I’m ready instead of screaming to be taken out of the stupid chair).
I was moved into my own bedroom this week, which is pretty sweet. It wasn’t as scary as the first time I got moved a little way away from Mum and Dad. The first night I hollered just to make sure they were still there, but once I figured out that they were, it has been all good. I sleep a bit better because they don’t disturb me coming in and out now.
I laugh heartily, with real joy, and I squeal with delight now when I’m happy. Life is good.
whatvioladidnext 