Seven

I can't believe Arlo will be seven months on Friday. I remember(kind of) those percocet filled sleep-deprived first weeks that felt to me like YEARS. I remember thinking " this kid will NEVER GET OLDER"-- but my how time has flown. I stopped reading about baby junk-- development and what not-- around 3 months because everything I read was different, telling me different things, etc.. and for shits and giggles I picked up the book my friend Tori continuously asks me NOT to pick up just to see where Arlo is on the timeline( the book is the " What to expect within the first year" ( sorry, Tori) this evening. Apparently, my kid should be sitting without support-- which he can for about a minute or two until he topples over like a drunk chick after too many jello shots at a frat party. He should also be able to, and I quote, " feed self cracker". What in the HELL does this mean? He's not a parrot. I had no idea I was supposed to even be feeding him crackers let alone teaching him how to feed himself. He doesn't even have teeth, for goodness sakes. Feed self cracker. You go feed yourself a cracker you idiotic book. He should also be making a " wet razzing sound".  He does make noise, but does not say " RAZZ RAZZ" while spitting all over creation, so I'm not sure where we're at on this one. Then it goes on to talk about how to raise a gifted baby. HE IS SEVEN MONTHS OLD. Mensa won't be knocking down our doors anytime soon.
So the moral to this story is.... STOP READING. ( I never thought I'd hear myself say that)