Eight Months

I've been terrible at keeping up with the posts here.  Bad mom.  Guilt, guilt, guilt.  My baby daddy, family and good friends agree that I need to prioritize.  

For example, was it necessary to drive 40 minutes round trip to pick up grapes from a Freecycler and then spends hours make homemade grape jelly?  In my mind, absolutely.  Others disagree.  

Did I really need to make kale chips, just because I had kale?  I suppose not.

Meanwhile, I still haven't finished baby-proofing the house and a couple of weeks ago Abby ate cat vomit.  Not that baby-proofing would have prevented this, but you can see where I'm headed.  Land of the overwhelmed mom.  I'm a cliche.  Hence, a lack of posts.

So I'm cheating on this Eight Months entry.  It's actually six days after Abby's eight month mark, but I'm back-dating the post and no one better dare to stop me.

At eight months, Abby. . .

• Can army crawl faster than I can hustle to get a paper towel to clean up the cat vomit
• Babbles when she tastes something she likes
• Loves salty cheeses - feta and Romano - and frozen yogurt
• Rolls around in her sleep
• Pushes herself up on hands and feet and sticks her tush in the air
• Somewhat pulls herself up on furniture 
• Has random screaming sessions of joy
• Quickly mastered the pincher grip and now eats crumbs and fuzz off the floor
• Takes a bath in the big tub
• Laughs when her belly is tickled
• Thinks Mommy and Daddy are jungle gyms
• Resists napping if anything remotely interesting is going on
• Sits in high chairs at restaurants
• Has an Ernie doll and a doll from Ikea named Phyllis - both faces in which she loves to scream
• Is constantly complimented on what a 'good baby' she is in public
• Turns into the devil after 6 pm if she's not near Mommy
• Has the best smile in the universe.

 Abby knocked over Teddy, the size-comparison stuffed animal.  Guess she wanted to be center stage.