This is such a magical age. You know, the age where you lay them down and not only do they stay put, they look at the camera and smile.
Today was a milestone in Clive’s short little life.
It was the first day that Mommy couldn’t remember how many weeks old he was. It’s not anything personal. I lost count at this point with Remy, too.
Those first few weeks are so easy to track; one, two, three, seven, thirteen, fourteen. Then we hit eighteen, nineteen. Then I forget. How many weeks? How many days?
It’s not that it’s hard to keep count…I think it’s more that I forget that he hasn’t always been with us.
It’s the end of an era–the era where you’re the new kid on the block.
From here on out, you’re family.
(21 weeks…I looked it up.)
wrestled a bout of pneumonia this month.
told a roomful of nurses at the ER exactly what he thought of them.
then came home and told Mommy exactly what he thought of his medicine.
Mommy is now an expert medicine-giver.
weighs 13 lbs 12 oz.
has mastered grabbing the toys on his play gym.
and working his socks off his feet.
no hands needed.
think his brother is hilarious.
Mommy is pretty funny, too.
has started trying to sit up.
and stand up.
likes it when Mommy sings.
tries to sing back.
is trying so, so hard to roll from back to belly.
is super ticklish.
is one serious tooter.
and one sweet baby.