Now that Lottie's almost ten months, I'll tell you how she was at nine months.

Nine months old! VICTORY IS LOTTIE'S!

So Lottie is now an old baby. She's been out longer than she was in, and she's extremely enormous. Well, not in terms of size. She's still only like 15 pounds, which I think might actually be off the small end of the growth chart. But she's getting longer, and she's super chubby still, and all her milestones are just dandy, so I (and her doctor) think she's fine. Just a naturally teensy baby.


Lottie pretends to be adorably shy when in reality she's practically a glad-handing politician.

She's the happiest baby you ever did meet. She went through a brief stranger danger phase (in which I couldn't go to the gym because she wouldn't stay with the childcare people, *sob*), but aside from that week, she basically loves everyone and everything. She smiles all day long except for when she's too tired to function, at which point life becomes a living horror. She's very dramatic that way. She can say three words: Mama (na-na), milk (muh), and kitty-cat (keh-keh, plus much enthusiastic arm-flapping). She also signs milk and tries to sign more, and she can clap her hands if you ask.


Aforementioned arm-flapping.

Physically she's doing pretty well, too. She army crawls but hasn't quite figured out how to crawl on all fours, and she can pull herself up to stand with the greatest of ease. She occasionally even tries to pull herself along the furniture to walk a little, but mostly she's just happy to stand there and beam at you. Also she likes to eat everything. For example, I have to go now because she's trying to eat a paper towel. Oops.


Just look at that balance, will ya?