Doin-ga Doin-ga

I think I live in a wormhole in the space-time continuum.

It seems like I had Eden years ago, but that she should be three months old still.

Yeah, hurts my brain, too.

Yet, here she is, almost nine months old, mobile, and searching for all the doorstops she can find.

My mother-in-law came over yesterday, and she looked over Eden and said, "You stop that! You can't grow up yet!"

I responded for Eden by saying, "I LOVE it!"

Eden just smiled at my MIL and waved her fat arms enthusiastically, smacking my arm with her sausage-like fingers.

Jeremy frequently mentions how surprised he is at how aware Eden is.

My girls have always been that way, though. From day one.

Joshua was a cranky bag of dough that slept for the first six months, and suddenly woke up and hasn't stopped going since. Of course, he could have been in that state since I insisted on putting him in the swing all the time so I could play Myst....

You know, I didn't think a nine-month old could have a sense of humor, but apparently they can. I was sitting at this very computer desk a week ago, and I had Eden on my lap, and Eva was perched on a chair next to me, her elbows on my desk, and her fanny in the air. Eden started laughing, and kept on going at it for quite a while. When I finally looked down, Eden had her hand on Eva's fanny and was opening and closing her fist, as if she was tickling her. "Eden's silly!" came Eva's amused remark.

I think they are two peas in a pod, as far as their humor goes. Remember this blog?

Yeah. Time to hide to dolls now.