Molli is in love with her walk-wagon.
She’s been cruising and walking her wagon like mad ever since we got back from Langeland. She likes to push her wagon all the way across the living room, and when she hits a wall or door she stands patiently, arms at her side, waiting for someone to turn the wagon around so she can push it back.
She cruises around the living room table at such speed that you barely have time to push all the stuff heaped on it to a safe part of the table before you have to move it again.
She stands suddenly for no apparent reason in the middle of the floor, looks around herself, then squats down again.
Vegas odds are 5:2 she takes her first steps before her first birthday.
Her hair is getting longer.
She still loves the pool.
She put her mouth underwater for the first time today. A couple of times.
She enjoyed kicking her legs, frog-like, while in this flotation ring. Of course we couldn’t let go of her, but we were surprised how naturally a primitive breast stroke came to her.
I promised Nana a picture where those bottom two teeth were visible.
She makes the weirdest expressions.
Lastly, we didn’t manage to get her birthday invitations out today. The party is going to be Sunday, July 3. We’re combining her birthday with her name-giving celebration, so we’ll finally have that out of the way, too. To keep it economically feasible it’s just going to be an outdoor thing from 2 to 6pm, with coffee, rolls, cake, beer, and wine, and the invitation list is regrettably small—basically just family.
Anyway, here’s a shrunken version of the invitation—family members can anticipate the real deal in their email in-boxes in the next day or two.
(“Sunday the third of July… is MINE!”)
Good night!
Oh to have a walk wagon. What bliss. She will be walking soon and then you will wonder why you were pushing so hard for it to begin since it marks the end of normality.