What happens when an anthropologist marries a stage director, moves to a small college town, buys an old house, has a baby, and then turns her blog over the her husband.
Peter was wondering why I was holding his with my feet. He's sitting up very well now with support. Usually that's a sofa, or mummy's or daddy's hands.
1 comment:
That's drool on his shirt. He's become a prodigious drooler in the past week. I wonder how far off teething is now...
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