I don't like Mondays

I don't like Mondays, or Saturdays, because we have meetings at the Kingdom Hall those nights. I don't mind meetings per se; Mom took me to one on a Sunday afternoon and I loved it. I think it's that the evening meetings keep us out late. They're singing songs under fluorescent lights while I should be in a warm tub, and they're talking about the Bible when I should be in a cozy bed. Mom thinks I'll get used to it, but in the meantime she trades shifts with Dad on walking me in the back of the hall or outside. I think I can break them if I keep it up.

I went out in field ministry on Saturday. Mom says I did pretty well for a fuss-budget. Whatever that means. It was hot!

Also, I might be teething. I'm drooling a lot, sucking my hands, and fussing out of nowhere. I'm not sleeping as well. You can see the bumps where teeth will be. Tough week!

Like a Hole in the Head

This is me falling asleep in the Ergo on Daddy at the mall (you can tell it's not Mom because her chest hair if blond!). Mom got her second ear-piercing. Afterward, she said she felt less guilty about piercing my ears because it wasn't so bad. Oh, if only I could speak, I'd have a few words for her!

A Bee on Vie

I love my after-dinner walks around the neighborhood, in what the pediatrician calls "healthy sunshine". It's fun to watch Mom and Dad scramble to stand just so in order to block the sun from hitting me when we change direction. The constant breeze in Jacksonville is pleasant on my skin, and I can hear the birds and sounds of other kids having fun.

A wasp flew in yesterday as we were departing for our walk. It hovered at the second story window in the foyer. We all forgot about it until this morning while Mom was changing me and talking to Unc. Then in a flurry they were yelling and swatting. Mom actually touched the wasp to smack it off of my leg. Then Mom shut Unc in the room with the wasp for a battle to the death. It was touch and go for a while. We heard six thuds and an exclamation from Unc, but he emerged victorious and flushed the loser. My hero.

Worst Day of my Entire Life!

Mom and Dad took me to the "vet" this morning, and she wrote "Great Job" on my report card. My head is still in the 50th percentile, as I had been for height and weight also at my two week checkup. But today I'm in the 85th for height and the 97th for weight. The pediatrician said Mom must be making buttercream. Whatever Mom makes, it's delicious and I eat it with gusto. Sometimes I grunt and then launch myself at her to start eating. So what? A girl's gotta eat!

I was all relaxed on the table at the office and then wham! The two nice ladies counted to three and simultaneously stabbed me in each leg! Then the lady also stabbed me in the ear lobes. Worst day ever. I was smiling by the time we were driving home, though. Mommy sat in the back next to me and now I'm milking her for all the sympathy I can get.

Also, I'm trying my hardest to sit up, though I still need help. I'm also working on my vocoobulary, babbling whole phrases. I have a lot to say, and plan to be able to say it in at least three languages soon.