This whole weekend, punkin, you seemed to grow by leaps and bounds every day. Every time I turned around, you were looking and behaving less like a baby and more like a young boy. You sat at the table with us at mealtimes (albeit munching on a rusk, rather than indulging in the board of fare), your face lighting up when we chose to include you.
Even now, as you sit on my knee while I type one-handed, banging on the desk with your chubby longfingered hands, I know that you're happy to be hanging out with your dad, and that you only wish that you could be the one typing instead of me. *sigh*
OK then, write a message to your future self
gyvufdg lpjk jkrki j kl klkj ooe fdeibg
Good work. Next week you turn 7 months old. Personally, I was just getting used to the idea of you being SIX months old, but all things must pass. My task this week is to get a photo of the new tooth you've sprouted, rather than just a photo of your toothmarks on my finger.
Lots of new photos over there ->
Love you.
1 comment:
You know what is scary? I have been reading this blog for awhile now and I saw photos of Bram when he was tiny...and now he is breakdancing!!! I'm watching someone else's child grow up...on the internet.
Such a geek ..sigh.
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