Layla pooped in her tub again last night. How did I feel about that? See above expression. I didn't think lightening could strike twice in the same place, but I was wrong. This time around I was able to keep my composure. Well sort of. I snatched her out of the tub and bolted for the nursery to put a diaper on her before she ruined everything. Too late of course. Of course now I am trying to mastermind a plan to prevent this from ever happening to us again. At the rate she's going, we'll need another baby tub by the time she's six months. Seriously, when it happened last night I debated on hauling the whole tub out to the garage to add it to today's garbage pick up. I changed my mind seeing as how they pick up enough poop with all the diapers I have for them each Monday and Thursday.

About an hour ago I put Layla on the couch so I could run to the kitchen to get her another ounce of milk. I put her on her back and left for less than a minute. When I got back she was on her tummy. How did I feel about that? See above expression. She had an arm trapped under her, but she was fine. I would like an explanation as to how she has become so mobile in such a short period of time. Tim doesn't know yet because he was sleeping when it happened. I don't think he'll be as shocked as I am though since he's constantly referring to the mounds of baby fat on her arms as muscles.

Each night since the first night she did it, Layla has been sleeping for 5-6 hour stretches at night. How do I feel about that? See above expression. You would think that with all those hours of consecutive sleep added to her repertoire, I would take advantage and run for the bed as soon as she's down. I don't. I watch t.v. I blog. I browse. I take a long shower. It's wonderful.