Dear Arlo, Eight months- also known as the month that you decided to go all Kelly Clarkson on us, and become 'Miss Independent'. Gone are the days of plopping you down on the floor with toys and staying entertained for thirty minutes. You are on the move. Within seconds, you are dragging your body (army crawl style) across the floor, trying to find whatever you can to chew on. You like to drink your bath water, pull yourself up on things you shouldn't, and chew on the bars of your crib. Yes, Arlo, you are a straight up wild woman... but If I'm being honest, Daddy and I kind of love it. You have us all wrapped around your finger and we don't mind one bit.
Until next month, little lady.