Update, Month 7

Dear Kylee,

You are a week or so shy of 7 months old. You are a very, VERY pretty girl. When your ears are up from interest you have a stunning profile, but it's when they flop down into happy submission that I feel my heart melting. It's a great photo but part of me laughs because I swear it's a mug shot. Busted! At this particular time though, you were not in trouble, rather you were hopeful for a snack.


Here is the much hunted creature - the Princess Leia Lab.

Your hobbies and interests haven't changed very much, you still think you are quite small, but, aren't.

The once itty bitty showers.....

Are no more.

After your first long hike with Marley, your father wanted to wash the brown off of you. This is not the same as when I scream I am going the slap the brown off of you. You took the water as a personal insult and all but melded yourself to the end of the shower wall. I was close to going to the kitchen for a spatula to pry you off of it.

This morning you spooned with your father for at least two hours, making me almost fall to the floor as there isn't quite enough room for four on our bed. When I protested, your father said your breath smelled better so you had won the match.

When Bosslady's Daughter came to visit this week you went out of control, performing your renowned crotch pounce, I struggled with you for a minute or so when she came over and I admitted defeat "You get this end!" and the two of us finally got your crazed behind out the door. You are very strong. Strong and clumsy has made me look like a battered housewife for months now, and should I ever make a fake claim against your dad, I'd have a case with the wounds you've given me. You also have your father's mentality, in that when I yelp from you getting too rough, you give me the most sarcastic look and I think I even once heard you call me a wimp. So what! All fun and games until Mom gets hurt, remember she is the one who can open the fridge Kylee.

Your father and I had a quarrel this last week and in the middle of it, you walked between us and pissed on the floor. You swiftly ended our argument with this rather clever manuever. Both of us looked at you, then each other and couldn't believe what you had done. You walked two feet away, sat proper and looked at us to see if the squabble would continue. Interesting move, and proof you are in fact listening because I dismiss a lot of things and complain by saying "well piss!" You are wise beyond your young little mind.

I love you and you are trying to stay a good girl.

Love,

Mama