Hi, Chair!

Hi, friends!

Tuesday was Olivia's 9 month birthday, and we celebrated exactly as you'd expect us to with a messy, shamelessly gluttonous feast.  Recently I bought some plastic bowls with suction cups on their bottoms (heh heh) so that Livy could practice feeding herself without flinging her entire bowl of food across the room.

Up to good?  No.  No, I'm not.

Do you see that mischievous glint in her coyly downturned eyes?  I missed it at the time, but recognize it for what it was now: a brewing response to a gauntlet thrown by her fling-thwarting suction-cupped bowl.

Go on.  Act surprised.

Well, that didn't take long, did it?  The bowl and spoon were soon overboard and the peaches on her tray became a sweet, sticky finger paint.  If they'd been any thicker I'd have stuck 3/4 of a candle in them and had her blow it out.

Today led to more highchair hijinks as she practiced feeding herself quick-dissovling organic puffs that cost more than a pound of Ghiradelli chocolate chips (Don't ask how I know this off the top of my head.).  Mostly she spent snack time looking adorable and forcing me to coo at her while taking an embarrassing number of pictures of her.  Yeah, I'm that mother.

But look at her!  She's so cute!

Puffs don't go in your ear, silly!

And she's mastering tricks of future cuteness, as well.  That scrinched-up nose face below is one that I'm legendary for making.  Back when I was young, nubile, and foolishly relied on my wiles rather than my bossy steamroller of AUTHORITY, I called this my "face that makes boys do what I want them to."  It works beest when accompanied by a slightly-too-loud girlish giggle, a casual touch on the arm, and the casual repetition of "You're SO funny!"  I can't decide if I'm terrified or bursting with pride at her precocious mastery of this useful skill.

"You're so funny!  Now would mind changing my tire/picking me up at the airport/introducing me to your cute brother?"

Olivia is also mastering all kinds of toothy grins now that her tooth nubbins have advanced into being full-fledged chompers.  She still has only two, so she makes them count.

I've got teeth!  Yes, I do!

I've got teeth!  How 'bout you?

She also created prosthetic buck teeth with a puff to supplement her real teeth.  The effect rendered her rather like an insane bunny.

You talkin' to me?

I didn't think so.

And then, true to a new habit, she became uncontrollably sleepy while eating and couldn't bear the weight of her own head any longer.

Jiminy, this thing's heavy.

So off to bath, bottle, and bed she went.

And, yes, I know it's obnoxious to document one meal in my child's life with a handful of pictures and that it's even more obnoxious to post them to these here interwebs.  But I've never claimed to be anything but obnoxious, so at least I'm consistent.  And [HILARIOUS] consistency is the hobgoblin of [AWESOME!] minds, right?  Right.