Rachel got herself up off the kitchen floor last night after dinner and WALKED through the dining room to the living room! Apparently the only thing that stopped her was the pile of Legos on the living-room rug that she had dumped out earlier that night.
We had a lovely dinner of cornish game hens, couscous and salad. I had the day off so I had plenty of time to prepare dinner and we got to eat at a decent hour. Then I raced out to buy ingredients for two quick breads (one, orange bread, for a guy who bid $20 for four quick breads I offered at the St. James auction, and the second, chocolate-chip banana bread, for Drew who kept throwing off hints that, well we have two overripe bananas, Lisa, and they'd be perfect for banana bread). By the time I got back, Drew was already putting Rachel down for the night, so I cleaned up the kitchen, made the bread and had just enough time to read a story in New York magazine before writing in my journal and heading to bed.
As I was curled up under the sheets, Drew notified me that we can't really call Rachel a baby anymore since she is walking so much. He said he caught himself calling her a baby and stopped himself because it's really not accurate.
"She's a toddler now!" he said, and I grudgingly agreed. Can she really be growing up? Can she?
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hey that pumpkin bread was delicious; Calvin thought so, too; he was very excited when I gave him the last slice for his school snack.
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