crucible of ennui

This weekend my life simutaneously got easier and more difficult.

Catherine can now hold her bottle on her own. She recognizes that if she can slam that bottle nipple into her gaping mouth - mmmm…. food. She will sit in her bouncer/high chair, as long as she’s in a bit of a recline and suck contentedly while I can now attempt to pick up the house, load the dishwasher, do some laundry, etc.

Catherine can also snake her hand out and grab onto things that can easily be knocked over. Vases, tablecloths (that was lovely since everything on the tablecloth fell over as well), the cat’s tail, weird things that shouldn’t go in her mouth.

It’s only a matter of time - I give it two months tops - that I’ll have to baby-proof the house. Can’t have her drool into an open outlet or go exploring in the kitty litter (mmm… Satan’s Almond Roca).

I have to beg Santa to bring one of those neglect-o-circles of activity to hopefully keep her entertained. I’ve been good this year. Promise. And if that doesn’t work, I can kick in a lapdance.