Desmond 7 Months

"He'll be crawling by Christmas." Your father has said that a million times in the past few months. I've had my doubts. You had developed a somewhat ridiculous mode of transportation that involved getting on all fours from a sitting position and then doing some kind of forward thrusting twist into another sitting position a few inches closer to your destination. You've been pulling up on things for weeks and I kind of suspected that you just might walk and never bother with real crawling at all. But, of course, your father must be right in all things and lo and behold on Christmas Eve you bloody well crawled all the way across the room.

Grandma put a giant pile of Cheerios (actually organic oat rings or something like that) on her very inorganic living room rug and lay (lied?) down to coax you into making the trip to her. I'm sure she has convinced herself that you were going to her, but the truth is you would do just about anything for a Cheerio these days.

And wow are you moving now. It's been, what, four days since Christmas? You are a crawling demon! You can pull up on things. You can let go of those things to stand precariously on your own for several seconds. (Even though you can crawl you are still far more interested in standing.) You can pick things up with your thumb and forefinger (like Cheerios). You sleep pretty much through the night like a pro.

We spent Christmas at Grandma's house with Sharyn and Robin and Kyle and Regan and Mr. Bradbury. You were a hit because you love everyone, which is so nice. I know you don't get that business from me. Now I have to find a place to put the ridiculous quantity of toys you received in our ridiculously small house.

On the last day Bentley, Sharyn and Robin's dachshund, got hit by a car. He escaped while the cars were being loaded up and a van hit him and drove off. Who does that? Poor baby. We thought he was going to be ok, but now they're saying his shoulder is smashed beyond repair. They love that dog so much. He's the friendliest dachshund I've ever met. I hope he's going to be alright, but it doesn't look good right now.

I'm so sad about this dog that isn't even mine. I can't imagine if it had been Rufus and all I wanted to do after hearing the news was hold you and verify your intactness. But it's hard to stay sad around you. You make everything better.

I think we're moving soon. Dad got a job in Tallahassee. We're waiting for the offer that will arrive this afternoon. If it's good enough, we'll take it. It will be hard for me to leave Grandma and Grandpa and KK and PaPa (and it will probably kill them) but our life is definitely not going to be in Palm Bay and I'm ready to start it where it will be. More on the job next time, I'm sure. I've started thinking about how we can sell this house and how we can get one up there. There's so much to do I'm not even going to spell check this post!

Love,
Mom

*(three days later) I had to come back and spell check after all.

** Bentley has had surgery. They are "cautiously optimistic." Don't know if he'll walk again at this point, but he probably won't have to be put down.