Freida

I love my baby. Yes, she's 14 months old and baby. She's cute, makes fun faces, and nuzzles my neck when she's sad.

Two weeks ago, she couldn't reach the top of the table. Now, keep in mind that I never learned to use any fancy diagram making software so you'll have to deal with paint images:

Now she has discovered what a difference growing about 2 inches in 4 four hours can make. This is what we're dealing with now:

The kids are accustomed to Pebbles being the only person who could reach the table. Pebbles' safe zones now includes the top of the fridge, dark closets, and the more treacherous parts of the roof.

Now we know just where Freida's range is b/c she has managed to dump at least 4 bowls of oatmeal on her head in the last week. I usually find this out when she comes to tell me hi and my pants get a facial.

Also, here's the beginning of a blanket. Flowers and butterflies forthcoming.



Also, this pic is for Uncle Jim. Yes, we still have, use, and love these sweatshirts.