I walked into Emmy's room this morning, and look at what I found:
That would be little Emmy, standing up in her crib (and if you look carefully beside her, you can see teeth marks from her brother's days in that same crib. The joys of being a younger sibling - furniture comes pre-chewed, for your convenience). Standing up, can you believe that? This week Emmy has started pulling up, crawling on her hands and knees (she's been crawling on her belly for about a month) and has even cruised around the couch a little. In a week. Keep in mind she's only seven months old. She also says something that I swear means "Daddy" and "dog-dog" (depending on who enters the room) and today I saw her playing around with the sign for "nurse" while she was eating.
Next week she'll be making her own baby food and writing her own stories.
What's your hurry baby? We only get this one year for you to be months instead of years old. Don't you want to hang out here for a little while? Trust me, there is going to be plenty of time to chew on lamp cords and pull the wheels off your brothers' cars. Don't you just want to, I don't know, sit in my lap a little longer? Please?