Asphalt Flowers

...Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.

"Where the Sidewalk Ends"

-Shel Silverstein

NINE!!!!

  Holy Cow.  The photo below sums up what it is like to live with my nine month old:

Um, yeah.

  I will not describe Sweet P to you myself at this point in her life.  I will use the words of others:

  "My, that baby is busy!"

  "She's going to be a talker."  (Heard that twice today.)

   "What a beautiful baby!"  OK, OK, shameless bragging right there.  

  My days are spent attempting to wrangle this baby and prevent her from causing self harm.  She is in to absolutely everything.  She can turn on the bathtub faucets, throw Cheerios into the bathtub, beat on the toilet like she's playing the drums for Ricky Ricardo, crawl quickly, climb small chairs, and attempts to stand all on her own.  Some call it determination, I say hellbent is more like it.  

  She touches everything.  This is wear my parenting might differ from others.  I grew up touching everything and still do, therefore, I let her explore her world by touching almost everything she comes in contact with.  This is why when I put her on my hip, she immediately points to the nearest light switches since they are now eye level.  We spend many minutes increasing our electrical energy consumption, and bill,  playing, "On, off, on, off."

  Of course, she has a few new pet tricks.  If you ask her where her nose is, she will point to the tip of her little nose.  She refuses to say "Mama", but is more than happy to say "Dada".  She will mimic words like hot, or bye, but I know she is not really saying them, just repeating the sounds we made.

  I'm afraid she will begin walking very shortly.  This is much too soon for me.  I tell her to knock it off, or I'll push her down.  (Very lovingly, might I add.)  I'm truly, truly in love.  Thanks be to God!

Yes, I cut her bangs.  No, I will not do that again.

The greatest feeling in the world:

Green Beans & AR15s

Just your average evening of cleaning your plate...and gun.

A photo essay of today's lunch.
Aptly named:

Notice the knocked down bouquet and tiny pea baby food spot.

Little happy feet punted lunch across the table.

On the rug and onto the wall.

Look closely at her shirt.  

A little too pleased with herself, I say.