My mom just called to see if I was still alive because I haven't posted to my blog in over 24 hours. I am, in fact, alive. I'm not even sick yet. Slightly twisted maybe, but not physically ill.
As DY Dad wastes away to a shell of his former self, slurping chicken soup, blowing his schnoz, and saying incoherent things about server configurations (oh wait, that part's normal), Laylee and Magoo are rapidly passing childhood milestones.
Fact - 7-month-old Magoo can now walk if you hold his hands and guide him forward. He looks like a cross between a Mussolini-style soldier and a cute fat ball of pudge with newly unleashed robotic mobile capabilities.
Fact - Laylee drew a person on her magna-doodle yesterday that looked surprisingly unlike a pile of mangled spaghetti. Not only did the specimen look semi-human, it actually looked a lot like a 1st trimester fetus, complete with arm-buds, leg-buds, blob-like cranial structure, and (she said) pants.
I don't want to jinx things by mentioning the other milestone that we're noticing, but it has to do with the fact that she is entering the realm of the persons with three years of agedness under their belts and the terribility seems to be waning. I will update you on whether this process ever completes itself …maybe after she leaves for college.