I'm one of those guys lucky enough to be married to a stay-at-home Mom. And yes, I was once one of those guys who assumed that most stay-at-home Moms divided their daylight hours between changing diapers, running on the treadmill, and sipping vodka martinis.
But that was yesterday.
Today, I am enlightened. That's because this afternoon, I came home from work to see a whole bag of tricks that Babe-O has been carefully cultivating with her Mom's diligent support, day after day.
She can stand up in her crib, clinging to the rail. She can sit on her butt, all by herself. She can roll over, if she wants something close by badly enough.
She's also finding her voice, which is really cute; though I'm told that it causes headaches if you listen to it seven hours a day. She has kind of a jovial, high-pitched squeal that she likes to let rip for long periods of time. Still…you can tell she's working on getting some words out. She will enunciate when she's happy and mutter under her breath when she's mad.
Her first words can't be far off, which might be problematic because her Mom and I haven't quite gotten our potty mouths under control yet. On the plus side, even in the most profane scenario I can think of, Babe-O's first phrase still begins with "mother." In the scrapbook, we'll just leave it at that.