[ { "name": "500x250 Ad", "insertPoint": "5", "component": "15667920", "parentWrapperClass": "", "requiredCountToDisplay": "1" } ]
Well, Tess, something significant happened in week 38 of your life. You discovered the power of knees, and their ability to hoist your tummy off the floor. Your whole world changed with that new shin-high view of things. No longer fanny-bound, you were soon free to cruise everywhere, and our whole world changed. Again.
Gone are the days of taking our eyes off you for multiple minutes, confident as we were that your stationary life brought no threat of hazard. And along with your new locomotion skills came the ability to leverage furniture to stand up and balance yourself. Therefore, gone are the days of leaving forgotten change in the couch; no more golf tees laying around. Sharp edges: padded. Stairs: gated. Adornments: minimized. And with the bounty of multicolored toys scattered about, this is starting to look less and less like our house and more like your house. Chez Tess.
Your personhood is beginning to merge with your babyhood. You're teaching us your likes and dislikes. You like edamame and bananas and avocado, but if I try to give you that nasty sour fruit blend, you'll surely spit it on my arms again. Sweet potatoes and carrots: Yes. Green beans and custard: No. Remote controls, shoes, and little books: Yes. Rattles, plastic rings, and the rubber ducky: No. Blocks: Sometimes. But I won't even think of handing you the fluffy horse again after that look you gave me, which said, "good God, man, that is so six weeks ago --- puh-leease!"
So, you've graduated. You're officially a rugrat. And as I understand it, this phase lasts a loooong time. Go easy on us, kiddo.