PJ's on a Greased Pig

Samantha is moving everywhere these days. I mean everywhere. Note I did not say she is crawling ... to date, she just hasn't figured it out, though not for lack of trying. But she can roll and scoot with the best of them. In the past few days she has mastered getting from all fours back to her hiney. Crawling is not to far off. And when she does - whoa, boy - are we gonna be in trouble!

I was able to get some pictures of our little wiggle worm when Steve was trying to get PJs on her the other night. This was not planned. I heard Steve laughing hysterically, so I figured the camera may come in handy. I'm thankful for these small moments that are just plain ol' funny.

Steve has likened this new phase of our lives to "trying to catch a greased pig." Much as I hate to compare our sweet daughter to swine, its pretty close to the truth. Our friend Ted Logan, who lives just this side of Skaggston, says you can catch a greased pig if you just rub a little dirt on your hands. But that just doesn't seem right on a clean baby. (Kudos to anyone who loves Ted and his pigs. And if you don't, get a Leroy Mercer CD stat!)

One arm in! Three appendages to go!

Two down, two to go!

Two down, still two to go!

Two down, still two to go!

Three down, one to go!

Two arms and two legs in .... Daddy wins!