My parents and little sisters were over this past Monday evening. Of course, that meant an evening of showing off for Bug. He was trying to walk all over the place. He has been "walking" since he was nine and a half months old, but he hasn't really started walking as his main mode of transportation. Recently, he is getting much better. And much braver. As he toddled around our apartment, arms outstretched for balance and a look of determination on his face, my dad joked that he looked like Frankenstein. That silly Poppy is always making fun of Bug!
More recently (code for yesterday and today) I have been tormented by some other sort of monster. I think Bug is teething. But, whatever it may be, has turned my sweet and hilarious baby into a weapon of severe torture. He has been "crying" (you know, that crying that isn't really crying, but whining in its highest form) NON-STOP. Only God's grace and protection has kept us both alive through this. My mom called to ask how things were going ('cause my wonderful hubby worries so much about me when Bug is cranky that he calls in a small army to back me up through the horrors of it). I told her what the Hubs had probably already relayed...that I'm only a fraction away from total insanity (what I am going to do when I have more kids!?!?). Then she asked if I needed anything. Hmmm....a shower? a nap? a tequila (or some Mormon version of one. I'm guessing that would be a huge chocolate bar)? *snap fingers* I've got it, bring me a tranquilizer.