Pitter-patter

We are now sleeping upstairs in a bedroom instead of a basement-spider-infested-storage/bedroom. Now we just need to get all our crap into the storage room instead of spread about the house and get our clothes up in the bedroom. The move was catalyzed by an incident with a huge-fricking spider. I noticed the cat watching something along the mattress and assumed it was just a fly or something. Then I hear pitter-patter pitter-patter and there was a huge spidercrawling the mattress. So I jump up and I am embarrassed to admit gave a little shriek, waking Layden and sending the spider behind the mattress. I get Layden back to sleep and decide to pretend none of it happened and turn off the light. I am lying there trying to sleep, occasionally hearing noises that I tell myself are just the pillow next to me rustling. Then, pitter-patter, pitter-patter. I fumble with the light, ahh not plugged in!, plug it in and then on the pillow next to me is that huge fricking-spider. Small shriek and up I jump again, once again waking Layden and this time causing him to cry. At this point I mentally slap myself in the face and tell my self to stop being such a weeny. I grab Sacajawea (1000+ pages) and wack the spider. I don't think I killed it because it was on a pillow when I wacked it. I scooped into Oli's mug and dumped it outside. But at that point I decided that tomorrow the bed goes upstairs. So long story short: huge fricking-spider, shriek, bed goes upstairs.
Yesterday, Layden and I went to Moscow for groceries and I stopped at Joanns to check for cheap drape fabric for our bedroom. No luck but Layden found some fabric he just had to have. Blue, fluffy, fuzzy fabric. He reached out, pulled it to his face, nuzzled it and giggle with glee. At $5/yard I could not deny him the joy and it may be the best $5.25 toy I will ever get him. I have noticed with Layden baby toys are very hit and miss. Some he likes and occasionally plays with but by and large he will crawl around, through, and over piles of toys for a scrap of paper or piece of plastic. He is starting to really enjoy peek-a-boo and likes to help me move my hands when I don't meet his standards. He is talking more and more now and occasionally uses "ma-ma" in conjunction with sitting on my lap or reaching for me. Then he uses it while chasing the cat or staring off into space so I am not sure it counts. I am frequently asked if he is walking yet, well he isn't. He doesn't seem particularily inclined to try it out either, far too unsteady. He really doesn't like unsteady. Unexpectedly sitting down or even a close call can be enough to make him cry.
Have I mentioned that he is just about the cutest thing in the world. He is cute when he is intently studying the texture of the mattress with his little brow furrowed, he is cute when he sees his daddy come home and smiles at him, he is cute when he burrows his face into his fuzzy blanket and he is unbearable cute when he wakes up, yawns, looks at me, mumbles some sleepy noises, smiles and falls back asleep. I never thought I would end up being as silly as other parents about how cute their child is when the child is patently not that cute. And I was right. Those other parents are even sillier that I thought because how can they dote so much on their baby when mine is so very much cuter? It boggles the mind.