You. Give. I. Go.

I keep telling Claire, if you want to go somewhere spend some time learning to crawl.  You’re almost nine months old now.  You’re the one that insists on being carried like a Princess by servants.  Not that I’m unhappy to oblige.  But, you know, at some point you have to put your foot down as a parent in her own best interest.  The best response I’ve gotten to this so far was for her to deposit a full cup of baby puke on our bed and then giggle maniacally.  So, it’s a work in progress.
 
Babies are wonderful.  They’re unreasonably fussy for several days and then, suddenly, they’re full of energy.  Babies are wonderful.  And they want to be everywhere but exactly where they are.  Babies are wonderful.  Which is impeccable timing, considering how wiped out Danielle and I are after the last few days.  Babies are wonderful. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
I can has that plastic bag with food on the inside?  Babies are wonderful.  No, you probably shouldn’t play in the bread bag.  Also, she bit me recently while I was holding her and eating a french fry.  Babies are wonderful.  She wanted the french fry, by force if necessary.  And it’s Danielle’s fault for teaching her to beg from the table.  Also, this baby is wicked smart.  I swear, the following is the unexaggerated truth.  It blows my mind.  If Claire even sees a Mint Milano bag on the coffee table, she stares at it, babbling quietly to herself.  If I move anywhere near the bag, she screams at me until I offer to share.  I don’t mean scream cry.  I mean, full on shouting commands.  She doesn’t do that with any other container.
 
On the funnier side of baby-and-dog life, Istas follows Claire-in-walker like a disciple.  Claire will sometimes get some sort of easy baby food, like a slice of cheese all broken up, to have while she walks around.  Inevitably, she will throw it on the floor.  I’ve seen her share with Istas, too.  Although, I think Claire is really just showing off her preciousses.  But, you know, that looks an awful lot like a human offering a treat to a dog.  Plausible deniability, at least.  And don’t you think the dogs aren’t clever enough for that.  Either way, Istas just plucks it out of her hand like a surgeon.  At which point Claire goes through bafflement, discovery of the theft, rage, tears, and discovery of more cheese bites.  And then the process repeats itself.  It’s entertainment for like twenty minutes.

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