Dear Declan,Oh, dear. You had me at hello, but still....your smile shatters my heart into a thousand brilliants.
At six months, you are squirmy.
You are happy, an easy baby. Now. Don't think we've forgotten about the first two months. No, Sir Ree Bob.
You are back to just formula. That's what you get for being small and preferring food to formula. It'll pass.
You are quick as a wink at rolling both ways and popping up on your hands and knees.
You are this close to sitting up.
You are a champion night time sleeper, and a good napper, most days.
You have no stranger anxiety, but your parents are so easy-going that this doesn't surprise me.
You are a drooling fiend. There'd better be teeth popping through soon to payoff handling a baby in a constant state of slime. Seriously dude.
You are doing this really funny "pose" that Mama has coined your "GQ" pose. I don't want to embarrass you to the internet, but O-M-G it is funny. I keep getting head pictures of Burt Reynolds posing for Playgirl. You're way cuter. Way.
You like to grab hair, especially Charlee's, but I understand...she is really pretty.
Even though you are small, you still manage to have one little fat roll on each thigh and tiny little dimples on your hands. Strong work, cause girls love this stuff.
You've finally put some effort into growing hair. It's a good thing. We were sorta hankering for a little red but I think we're going to fall short. I know you would if you could.
You hung out a little with Uncle Kyle today and taught him an important baby lesson. When baby falls forward and bumps his widdle nose, baby needs to be picked up, held close, with a few little back pats and soft words for good measure. With two women yelling instructions at Uncle Kyle simultaneously, he won't soon forget today's lesson.
You're the best.
Love, Mema
**MAW = Middle -aged woman
No comments:
Post a Comment