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Do you feel a little dizzy looking at these? That’s what life with this peanut is like now. It’s just dizzying. She’s learning so much, and getting stronger, and so, so intent on getting a hold of anything that catches her eye. A stranger at the coffee shop last week assessed her as, “Curious. And assertive.” Changing her diaper is like wrestling a bald raccoon.

She’s so close to crawling. Drew’s putting his money on within two weeks from now. That may be cheating, though, given that he’s teaching her – offering such sage advice as, “Keep your core tight. Don’t compromise form.”

Her two month long siege of bi-hourly wake-ups finally ended when we started feeding her a couple large bowls of rice cereal a day, at our pediatrician’s suggestion. She prefers it savory, with mashed avocado and a touch of salt, and she wolfes it down like you wouldn’t believe. Lately she’s begun trying to help, which is incredibly messy. I try to trick her by giving her an extra spoon, but she isn’t fooled. She likes to wait until I’ve got a heaping spoonful almost to her mouth, and then zings both hands up to grab it and steer it in (or rather, steer the spoon in, but somehow the food off and onto her face). And she correlates breastfeeding with getting sleepy so strongly that it’s carried over to solids; half a bowl and she’s rubbing her eyes with both hands, smearing avo into her hair and eyebrows. It’d be adorable if she didn’t hate the clean up so much.

When I was pregnant, my co-worker Chris told me that while raising his son, people were constantly telling him that such-and-such an age was the best. He said that was crap; that it starts out good and just continually gets better. He was totally right.

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