You, much like the rest of America, are probably wondering the latest, awesomest thing Carolyn is doing.
I mean, if you aren't focused on the Grammy's and the lack of clothing the women are wearing (I'm talking to you, Gramma Funk), that is.
Carolyn has decided just today that practicing her crawling is much more important than taking a nap.
We put her down two different times only to hear her messing around 25 minutes later.
I went upstairs where she was on all fours, rocking back and forth, repeatedly smacking her head up against the crib bars.
This is a bad thing for two reasons:
1. Carolyn has inherited this wonderful trait from her mother wherein if she doesn't get enough sleep, she's extra, super crabby and spends the day hell-bent on making everyone around her as miserable as she is.
2. Her spit-up is no longer confined to one area of the crib.
Tonight, the crib looked like a vomit crime scene.
You could see where she'd ralphed, dragged herself and her blanket through it and then ralphed again.
It was literally dripping down the sides of the mattress.
Yum.
Nothing like regurgitated yellow squash covering everything you touch.
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