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While packing, I kept finding baby pictures of babies that aren’t Charlotte. There’s a little bit of all of us (Ellen, top right; my cousin Ally, bottom right; me, bottom left) in her.

I could eat the same thing for days at a time and be perfectly happy. Charlotte feels the same way about her feet.

Charlotte tried spinach last night. She didn’t hate it, but it seems she prefers the taste of her feet.

On Saturday, Charlotte got all dolled up to dine at The Chart House on the Hudson River to celebrate her Great-Grandfather’s 75th birthday.

Read on for more photos from her big night out.

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After a day of looking into new appliances, Ellen put me in charge of researching refrigerators online. After reading a few consumer reviews, I decided to fire up Photoshop and see what Charlotte would have looked like in the 1890s.

I’m easily distracted.

Tonight Charlotte got all dressed up to attend her great-grandfather’s 75th birthday dinner.

As Ellen put it, “It looks like she’s posing for a portrait in the 18th century.”

She’s wearing a dress given to her by her Great Nana. More party pics coming tomorrow…

* “The Town” is Weehawken.

Let’s hope she doesn’t grow out of her lucky Duke shirt before April 6th.

We start the brainwashing early in this family.

Stat of the Day: Duke has never lost an NCAA Tournament game in Charlotte’s lifetime.

She’s fired up for tomorrow’s game against Texas.

Let’s hope they win, because I’m not ready to have the “Daddy, why can’t Duke recruit a dominant big man?” talk.

We told Charlotte that if she wanted to play Division I basketball, first she had to learn to stand. Mission accomplished.

The kid turned 8 months old yesterday. Here are some action shots from another exciting breakfast.

In lieu of a cake, we gave her a few banana puffs.

She shared them.

Here she’s simply reflecting on the milestone. The big point-seven-five is right around the corner.

Our little leprechaun happily sported her greenest outfit in honor of St. Patrick’s Day.

As Miss Cellania taught us on mental_floss this morning, the future St. Patrick was born roughly 400 years after the birth of Christ. When he was sixteen, he was kidnapped by Irish marauders and sold into slavery.

Six years later, St. Patrick ran away, walking 200 miles to catch a boat back to Britain.

I’m out of St. Patrick’s Day photos, so you’ll have to read the rest of the story on mentalfloss.com. Here’s a random recent shot of Charlotte eagerly anticipating her dinner (and Bailey eagerly anticipating Charlotte’s dinner, too).

This weekend, Ellen added a new wrinkle to the dinner routine: legitimately solid foods. (We refer to all non-formula as “solids,” which must be confusing to a little baby just learning about the different states of matter.)

She’s also a little confused about what to do with the food once it’s in her hand. Wearing it like a lip-ring was a good guess, though.

More fun in the Pack ‘n Play.

It’s hard to keep track of a baby and a dog. Sometimes, it helps to keep one of them caged.

They rotate.

Watch and learn:

Charlotte took her first step towards escaping today. After she came dangerously close to scaling her wall, we lowered her crib.

There, that’s better.

The perfect height for Bailey and Charlotte to converse.

Uh oh…

We might need to build a steel cage.

The English family recently gathered to celebrate my grandma’s 75th birthday. And as Great Aunt Sarah pointed out, Charlotte turns .75 next month. Almost a full candle!

The birthday girl with her kids, grandkids and great-grandkid. Click the link below for more pictures…

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