Time is flying and things are changing. She's finally walking and it happened so fast. It seemed like one day we were watching her take those first tentative steps and within a week she was confident and ready to roam. She loves her new independence but I wish she would just slow down. She's got 8 teeth to count and more on the way. Though this seems to have no bearing on her picky palate. She refuses to drink more than a few sips of milk, drinks a total of sometimes only 8 ounces of anything in a day and I can count the number of vegetables she'll willingly eat on one hand. It is admittedly difficult to just let it all go. We still often endure the "witching hour" in the evening that involves whining, tears, tantrums and pulling at my leg while I attempt to make dinner. The door to our pantry doesn't latch completely which has also lead to her belief that this makes it a free-for-all play room for her. I've picked up spilled bags of beans, rice, chocolate chips, several spice jars and packets. So my evening life becomes slightly chaotic but I remind myself how quickly time passes and how I'll want these moments back. Most of them anyway... right??