Hey Jakey,

Crawling. You're almost crawling now. You're up on your hands and knees and pitching yourself forward and falling over sideways. I think you're about a week away from coordinating putting one hand/one knee in front of the other and ... crawling.

I think nana and grampa are thinking about going home this week. It makes me sad, but maybe its for the best. It makes me sad that nana won't be around when you finally *do* get that crawling thing down, and that you'll be able to do all sorts of new things in the next couple of months that they'll miss out on. I just wish that they would move here. Boy, Jakey, if you knew the history of me and my parents, you would know just how freakin' weird and surreal it is for me to actually say that: I wish they would move here.

Sure, there were a couple of times while they were here that they totally got on my nerves and made me feel nine years old again, fighting and such. It was an instant time warp back to the days when I just wanted to crawl in a hole and die, but I'm a big girl now, and I can take it. Or leave it. I have that option now, as an adult.

Anyhow, I don't want them to go. I hope that your daddy and I don't inspire such wicked ambivalence in you as an adult, sweetie. I hope you like and love us without boundaries and bad feelings.

I'm wasting time at work right now. I'm off towards home, and hopefully you'll be there waiting for me!