I say three words now: mama, dada, and cacka (cracker). I make the sounds of a cow, elephant, monkey, and little mouse. I'm a little worker bee, dragging chairs and stools all over the kitchen and dining room.
I still love to put blankets, rags, and pjs on my head and walk around, peek-a-boo is still a pretty cool game, and kitty and lovey are still my favorite crib toys.
I'm transitioning from 2 naps to 1 and it's driving mama pretty bonkers; she never knows what our schedule is going to look like from one day to the next.
I'm eating significantly better than I was a month ago (yay!) but I've gotten sick in the car two more times (boo). Once was at noon (ruling out the morning theory) and once was without milk (ruling out the, well... milk theory), so now the only common denominator I'm afraid is... motion. Sigh.
I'm trying my hardest to win over Sampson, but not having much luck. Maybe we just don't speak the same love language, because he definitely does not love the attention I give him.
When mommy yells at me I pout and run to give her a hug and then I lean back and put my finger on the tip of her nose. It's just my thing.
I'm about 20lbs (10th percentile, womp womp) and 30" (50th percentile) but this is just my best guess... the doctor will confirm on Thursday.
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