(Written Sunday night ) Jim went to bed early so he can, as he put it, "get up yesterday for a butt crack o'dawn flight" to Santa Barbara (a rough day of golf...) . So, I enter happy blog land, as I always do, when the house is quiet and I can pour over masses of super cute Fiona pictures. I've nearly become professional, carrying a digital camera- sometimes two- in my bag as I never know when the next fresh expression or toothy grin will strike.
Fiona engages everyone with an instant smile and coordinating dimples. Her abrupt little bursts of laughter make for a whole cycle of us laughing at her and her laughing back at us laughing. Jim's become a pro at monster faces, peek-a-boo, and hide-seek--which at this point merely means turning one's head away from her then suddenly turning back. Yep, you're face has "disappeared" and suddenly "reappeared" and that's enough to bring about thralls of hearty chuckles.
Yesterday she made her way across the King sized bed--something about the comforter and her pants helped her along. I'm not sure if I can count this as first crawling since she was slow and sort of army shimmying too. The floor brings frustration, rolling onto side, therapeutic finger sucking, and tears to convince (ie, manipulate) me to just pick her up and bring her to whatever she wants, mainly, to me. Day by day, she's getting there and the outlet covers and door latches are on stand-by.
As always Fi's still a fashionista. While Harper's & Vogue are predicting metallic and leopard , Fiona's forecasting lime green and zebra...
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