Six Months

Six months . . . as in, half a year, whoa. Somewhere along the line, this squirming ball of squish became a real live person and I don't know when it happened. I thought for a while he was going to be the most serious baby and he would never smile. Then came one smile, and another, and now one is almost permanently glued on his face. He is so darn silly, and joyful, and full of life.

It's hard not to feel on top of the world when someone looks at you like you are Justin Bieber and they are a twelve year old Belieber. Squeeeing and flailing limbs and everything when he sees me or his dad. But his favorite person in the world isn't a person, it's his dog. He can be crying his little eyes out and all I have to do is call the dog over and his face breaks into a teary smile and giggle. 

Sometimes I get frustrated by how tedious and tiring it is to take care of a baby all day (which only happens a few times a week, bless my mother-in-law) and I need to get away for some time to myself. So I drive out to Target or whatever and all I can think about is how much I miss him. Last night I had some errands to run, and when Frank told me that he had already put him to bed when I got home, it was all I could do to not run into his room, grab him, and say "Let's play!"

And now, the good stuff: