What a week.

It's been quite the wild ride.

You can read all about it here.

Pollack? Or Picasso?

I got hold of a ballpoint pen last week and decorated the kitchen door. Mommy and Daddy must have been impressed with my handiwork, because a few days later, they bought me some sophisticated art supplies. Here I am rendering my next masterpiece. I call it, "Still Life With Diaper."

Punk Rocker Toddler.

Mommy and Daddy were laughing over my new hairstyle tonight.
What's a "Mohawk"?

One Year Later

Here are a couple of pictures Mommy took with her ancient 35mm camera, showing me and Daddy when I was just a wee, days-old sprite, and again on my first birthday. Can you believe how much Daddy has changed in just a year?!?

Cat-tastrophe

Last week, I took Mommy's makeup brush when she wasn't looking, and when she turned around, I was powdering the cat's face with it. She took it back and put it aside, intending to clean it later. Well, she forgot. And the next morning, while applying powder, her face broke out in glorious shades of red and pink. Apparently, Mommy is allergic to cats after all. Surprise! Anyway, she washed off all her makeup, applied some cortisone cream, popped a Benadryl -- and promptly went to bed. Oh well, my bad!

P.S. Don't forget to take my newest poll!

In the eye of the beholder.

Jackson Pollock, move over! I've discovered the kitchen floor is my canvas, and regularly create a mess, er, masterpiece every night using tools at hand. Here, my medium of choice was bibs.

Strike!

The doctor says once I hit 20 pounds, Mommy and Daddy can start putting me in a big-girl car seat -- you know, the kind that faces forward. Until then, I'm stuck in the baby seat/carrier you see here. Yes, I'm totally spilling out of it -- at my one-year checkup, I learned I'm in the 25th percentile for weight (i.e., heavier than 25% of little girls my age) and in the 75th percentile for length. I'm long and lean! But that doesn't stop Daddy from taking me bowling.