Friday morning Vibble woke up wanting to cuddle on the couch. I turned on a crime-show, and we sat there snuggling for about 45 minutes. She got restless, tottered around the room some. Then the climactic scene came on, and I got engrossed in it. When the show ended, she wasn’t in the room, so I went looking for her. Turns out she had gone upstairs, closed the safety gate at the top of the stairs … gone into our bedroom and closed the bedroom door … turned on the bedroom TV and CHANGED THE CHANNEL to cartoons. When she saw me in the doorway, she let out a huge giggle, like “Check out what I did!”

The last few days have seen an important change. While she has had the ability to walk a little for, oh, months now, she has only now demonstrated a preference for it. She giddily lurches around the living room, and wants to be held by her hands everywhere we go. Her feet are pretty tiny, judging by the sizes of shoes that are designated for her age, so maybe that’s part of it?

At Gym on Wednesday, Levi turned on the bubble-machine, and Vibb sort of said “bubbles.” Several other moms commented on it. I haven’t been able to make it happen since, but maybe this was a first-word (besides Mom/Bob and Dad)? She only repeats sounds when she feels like it. “Say ‘Mom.’ ‘Mom.” “La-di-la-di-la-di? Buh. Buhbuhbuhbuhbuh.”

Check out Steve’s/our day yesterday (that would be Saturday, the “weekend”): 8 a.m. haircut, 10 a.m. baby shower, hour-drive to Agoura Hills to sign tax documents, drive to Melrose to pick up Steve’s new glasses, dinner on the Promenade. It was all either really fun or really important stuff, but a packed-solid day. Amazingly, Vibble held up well. Her behavior this past week wouldn’t have predicted as much—she’s been a moody wild thing, we think because she broke a new molar the size of a Mastadon-tooth. The baby shower was to congratulate Walter and Dana, whose (big) little guy is expected in a couple of months, if not sooner. Oh, man, the outfits their friends gave them. I love little-guy clothes.

It’s 3:30 a.m. V woke up not long ago and was up crying for a bit. Stomach-ache maybe? Or the teeth? In any case, she took my spot in our bed. She is big enough, and insistent-on-sleeping-sideways-between-our-heads enough, that it really doesn’t work anymore to have her crash with us on the random night here and there. We just don’t all fit comfortably. Since I only got a few hours of sleep LAST night due to a migraine, I really can’t spend the rest of tonight getting kicked in the face as I hang onto the very precipice of the bed. So I came downstairs to put something in my stomach (cereal) and blog a bit, before I head to the twin-bed in her room and go back to sleep.

So, ‘night (again).