It’s now been four months and one day since Mr. Mo (aka Anselm) joined our family.

He’s sort of the enigma of the family. He doesn’t really look like anyone in particular (though he has Papa’s smirk and, I believe, Schulert ears.) And he doesn’t really act like anyone in particular (though he follows big brother Ephraim’s erratic sleep patterns that finally leveled out around month six–here’s hoping.) It’s hard to not compare his personality with his brothers’–he is his own person, after all–and he really does seem to round out the handsome trio of little men Mama has found herself blessed with. If Ephraim is the Boss, and Clive is the Lover, then Anselm may be the Flirt, or maybe the Conversationalist (he’s incredibly vocal, more than Ephraim was, which is worrisome) or even Mr. Congeniality (he hasn’t met a stranger yet.)

So long as he’s well rested (which is a task) he’s incredibly at ease, riding in the car with no problem and not minding a bit being passed from person to person at pool parties, though being placed in the pool itself was absolutely not on his list of Things That Are Enjoyable.

What does make it on the list are such activities as: looking at his hands; talking to his hands; chewing on his hands; sucking on his hands; talking to people; looking at people; chewing on people; smiling at people; looking at his toy moose; talking to his toy moose; chewing on his toy moose; smiling at his toy moose. Oh, and pulling Mama’s hair.

He’s also very ticklish, though instead of laughing he makes this screeching sound with a grin on his face that borders on alarm–a look that a friend described as “something’s supposed to happen here but I don’t know what it is.”

(I’ll give you three guesses whose finger that is.)

This month he doubled his birth weight, visited Florida for the first time and Kentucky for the third, went to the beach and stuck his feet in the Gulf of Mexico, rolled belly to back and almost back to belly, pulled up his knees and pushed himself forward while on his belly, experienced a serious regression in nighttime sleep, made his first “mmmm” sound, and reminded Mama that he still doesn’t like it when she eats chocolate and that her next real cup of coffee is quite a ways off yet.

Anything for you, buddy.