Niners

Dahlia made nine-months yesterday. I have to see her pictures from months ago to believe how much her look has changed already. She continues to be very curious and ambitious, and happy happy happy. Do not get into her line of sight, for she will pummel you with baby smiles until you melt.



We've been making more of an effort to read books with Dahlia, which is harder with the second child. She really enjoys classics like Huggy Buggy Shapes and Baby Boo!, even between nibbles on the book edges. I also get her up to the piano whenever I think of it, and she immediately lays down some chords; we'll see if this interest in the keyboard lasts, but it's seeming she's a natural lover of music.



I often threaten, in the morning, to take Dahlia to work with me, because she's such a cute little squirt ball -- couldn't I just set her on my desk next to the plant? Alas, she would tire of that. And she would try to eat the plant's dirt. But yesterday I did have the whole family up to the new office. My company's just relocated to a big building with glass elevators looking out on an impressive atrium. Elias loved it, noting the large air ducts (he loves to talk about large air ducts), then wanted to ride the elevators all day. Dilly just hung on Amy's front, taking all the sites in and forcing my coworkers to do that melt-until-you-smile-back thing.

Having a baby with you is like having a very powerful weapon, one which cuts through all grumpy-adult seriousness. Such a weapon is dangerous, though, because it has no "off" switch, and must soon be removed from places of employment before all production ceases and starvation begins to set in. I seem to recall that this type of civil-degeneration-due-to-babies was explored in an old Star Trek episode, no?