Hairy Legs Are Your Only Link To Reality

I'm constantly thinking, "No, THIS is my favorite picture ever." I don't know how many favorites one is allowed to have, but my girl in her crocheted hat is on the list. And boy howdy, she can make some awesome faces.

I can't believe she's going to be 6 months old tomorrow. I feel like I just brought her home! She started rolling over a couple weeks ago ... here's a clip of her mad skills. (Disclaimer: I'm posting this video for my mom, and perhaps an auntie or two who haven't yet had the opportunity to see it in person and who want to be updated every time I wipe her wee nose. The rest of you ... both of you ... might find a 2.5 minute video of me waiting for my baby to roll over less than riveting.)

Just so you know, Andrew does occasionally wear pants. I find about 50% of my pictures of him and 75% of the videos show him in his underwear. Every day he begs to run about in his skivvies (or less) and I usually give in at some point in the afternoon.

There's a little park in Decatur that I love, and we met Gillian, Eunice Chantilly and sweet baby Cracka' (who you can see in the background) there last week. This was Elsbeth's first time in a real playground swing - she wore that same concerned expression the whole time (about 30 seconds).


A little while after this picture was taken, Andrew asked to swing in the big kid swing - you know, where you have to hold on? Yeah, well he didn't. He was swinging fine one minute, then fell flat on his back the next. Apparently he just let go! I guess I didn't go over the big kid swing rules in enough detail. Only days later, our playgroup met at a different playground and Andrew fell to the ground while climbing a very tall slide. That fall made my heart stop for a few minutes, but while it could have easily broken his leg (or worse), the only injury I could find was a palm that turned pink from the impact. This won't make sense unless you've seen that slide, but he really should have hit some other (metal) playground equipment on his way to the ground. I envision angels guiding him through the air and allowing him to land softly in the wood chips.


Other than crashing into the ground, Andrew's big news is that he's started taking gymnastics. I had a less than satisfactory experience trying to get him signed up for a class a few months ago (a pox upon the Tucker Rec Center!) and found that the Atlanta School of Gymnastics is actually quite close to us, and as a special bonus, the people there are competent and seem to actually like children. Weird. He's gone to 3 classes now and loves it. It's just him and his buddy Skeezix and his teacher, Miss Amy. Parents aren't allowed out on the floor, and the gym is huge, so I don't have any pictures of him during class yet, but I have many of him gymnastisizing around the house.

Here he has dismantled my couch and built himself some sort of jumping obstacle on top of a chair. He jumped so high I lost the top of his head in the shot. I think this picture really gives you a sense of what it's like to be around this energy-laden gymnast these days.

And let's throw in a hand-stand for good measure. Miss Amy would be proud.