lil' stinker.

Well, I thought I'd be a safety-conscious mom and install a baby gate at the bottom of our stairs, because at 8-months of age, Meg can climb to the top of the stairs if we let her. And now that the gate is up, she's still insisting on getting up on those stairs. See exhibits A and B above (on two separate occasions). And once she's kneeling on there, she yells up the staircase as if to say, "who put this here? I once was able to explore these parts freely..."

Also, when someone leaves that gate open, she's quick as anything to get over there and begin her ascent. To top that, Meg is also walking along the couch and anything she can support herself on. So I'm thinking she'll be taking some steps by herself very, very soon.

a heathen no more.

Just a quick update from this past weekend. Meg received the Sacrament of Baptism at our church on Saturday. Ray and Danielle made the trip out to be present as her godparents (even when their flight was cancelled at the last minute they figured out a way to get here, which involved driving from Chicago! ugh.) Also visiting the newly baptized babe were Gran, Poppa, Freddie, Mya, Grandpa, Amy, Brett, Brittany and Bev. (so, we had a full house)

Little miss Meg was all in white, and was quite attentive and mesmerized when Father Vu spoke to her in a gentle voice as he performed the Baptism. No crying at all, which was surprising since she fussed with all the new faces in our house to see her. Although Meg did enjoy tasting her uncle's beer (she tried to share her bottle with him too) and she warmed up to Danielle with some peek-a-boo. We all played a lot of board games with the kids, and ate a lot of food... so overall it was a great weekend.

And on a side note: Poppa bought Henry his first car. Henry is now revving around the front yard like its a golf course, driving the dog insane. Just replace the divets Hen.

Kirby vs. nature

As the dog in the family, Kirby has it in his mind that he is king of the beasts. Ruler of all the smaller, lesser creatures in his electrical-fence kingdom. Typically, he'll sense a bunny/squirrel/large bird/mole/toad, and bark to be let out, to chase it out of the yard or under the deck. He'll bark at it some more, warning them to never return or fear his wrath. (I don't think he's ever actually killed anything, but I have seen him toss a toad once...) This is what he does. He's a dog.

But today, nature came over to laugh in his furry face. (see photo) He couldn't even muster a growl. All he could do was quiver and look at me, as if to say, "This isn't right. Why must I face this humiliation? You could let me out the front door and he'll never know what hit him..."

Ahh, Kirby. So close. Yet so far.