Milla is trying to stand up. Does not crawl. Loves to be tickled and wrestle with me on the bed. Is overwhelmed with joy when Charlie gets home.
Milla plays with my googles, a remote, the beautiful wooden blocks, her soft toy collection (somewhat roughly, very enthusiastically), my water bladder.
Milla can sometimes clap on command, can sometimes guide a spoon to her mouth, loves to bounce in her high chair and on her feet.
Milla points at the little black cat in the Maisy book, is soothed by recitation of Each Peach (cos I don't sing), will drop everything for Charlie's guitar playing.
Milla is loved and is lovely. Nine months old today.
|Sleepy. On the road. Nine months.|