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Wednesday I stayed home with Jonas who was sick and snotty and gross.

We had a good day if you can look past the whining and crying and snot and gross rags and protests against having his nose whiped.

After our morning nap, I was on the floor, laptop on the coffee table and Jonas sitting a little ways away from me playing. I looked up in time to see him on all fours and then launch himself forward with his right leg. Crawling! “Jonas! Look at you!” He grinned behind the hard book his efforts awarded him.

He did this maneuver two more times and I officially declared him a crawler.

After the afternoon nap, he was less happy and wanted to be held. All the time. Not exactly something I wanted to do while I was handling the raw chicken that would later be cooked into dinner.
“Jonas, sweetie. I know you’re sick but give mama five minutes.”
“Muh!” *sob*
“Mama’s almost done, mister.”
“Muh muh muh muh!”

“ok, mama’s done. Up we go!” Instant smile and silence as I swooped him up in my arms.

Through out the rest of the evening, he cried out “Muh muh!” whenever I wasn’t holding him.

Thursday I picked him up from Gramma’s and he kicked and squirmed to get out of gramma’s lap when he saw me. As soon as I picked him up: “Muh! Muh muh muh. Mumumumumuh!”

“Yes, mama’s here.”

This morning as I got him ready: “Muh!”

While I’m hesitant to say he’s talking at less than 9 months, you can understand why we might think he is.


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