“No, she’s not walking yet.”

That seems to be the most answered question of the month. People always say, “Oh, I bet she’s walking everywhere, isn’t she?” No, no she’s not. “She’s not??” No. She’s not. In case you’re wondering: Yes, this gets old. Fast. After people get over the shock! that she is 15 months old and not! walking! by! herself! I explain to them that it doesn’t surprise me because Samantha is a special kind of kid. A kid who definitely does everything on her own terms; a kid who didn’t start attempting to crawl until she was 9 months old; a kid who says, Dude, why the crap would I want to walk when you bitches will carry me everywhere?

People normally reply with, “Well, I know so-and-so who didn’t walk until she/he was 15 months old.”

Like that would make me feel better.

Well, here we are, fifteen months, and so I guess this should be the magical month where she starts walking on her own.

Her verbal skills are really starting to shine through (and for a moment, excuse me while I point out that while she may not yet be walking, her verbal and signing skills are FAR superior to other babies we know, including some that are older than she is… I’m certainly not worried about any sort of developmental delay here). She understands full sentences and will try to repeat everything we say. She can pick up new signs within minutes of teaching it to her now. She’s smart, really smart, and I’m not just saying that because I’m her mom and I’m supposed to. I’m saying it because sometimes she does stuff that we didn’t teach her, that no one has taught her, and it scares me a little that she is SO smart.

She has this favorite stuffed pig that she requires before she can sleep at night. Mark and I always laugh about it because this pig? Not just an ordinary pig. It’s got this big battery pack in it because it does the “this little piggy” thing (you know, “this little piggy went to the market,” etc.)… so it’s like a five pound pig, and out of all the millions of stuffed animals she owns, the pig is the chosen one. I wish she’d pick a new animal, a softer one, because I’m afraid of getting smacked in the head with this thing. At night before bed, I hold her, she holds her pig, and she drinks her milk. The old routine included snuggling after she was finished with the milk, but now when she’s finished, she sits up, clutching the pig, points to her crib and says, “Du.” (Du is basically the “I don’t know the word and/or can’t pronounce but do what I say” word). As in, “Okay, ready for bed, put me down now.” She’ll give a kiss and then lay down in her crib, singing to her pig before falling asleep.

But, no, she’s not walking yet.

Did you know that some of the softest leather in the world is made from goat skin? Their skin is so incredibly soft, and aside from a part of their tail, their lips are the smoothest and softest thing to touch, ever. I’m addicted to them. They hate that I fondle their lips every time I’m near them, I’m sure.

Thank God.

Driving home from work yesterday, this car pulled in front of me on the highway with a bumper sticker that read, “BACK OFF! I’M A MEXICAN!”

That doesn’t make any sense, I thought… why back off? Because of all the illegal-immigration drama? Is it supposed to be funny? It’s not funny. Maybe I just don’t get it, maybe it’s a Mexican joke? Maybe I don’t get it because only Mexicans would laugh?

So then I pulled up closer to them, in their black Mercedes, and thought, they’re not Mexican at all! What kind of thing is this? A white person saying, how clever, I’ll put on this BACK OFF, I’M A MEXICAN bumper sticker on my high-end Mercedes and people will laugh along with me!

And then I pulled even closer to them (whilst going 70mph, we’ll ignore the fact that I wasn’t driving safely), and realized that I had misread the bumper sticker all along. The funky font made it difficult to read from a safe distance, and it did not, in fact, say “Mexican,” it said, “Musician.”

BACK OFF! I’M A MUSICIAN!

I thought about it for another minute (and I BACKED OFF! his bumper) and realized that “Musician” makes about as much sense as “Mexican.” At least to me. Maybe I’m not artsy enough to get it.

And maybe I should market the BACK OFF! I’M A MEXICAN! stickers?