F has taken a step and a half, from the couch into my arms. He doesn't seem in a huge hurry to walk, but has gotten really good at standing on his own. He also doesn't say much, but is a baby sign-language champ. We always know when he's hungry and when he's done.
This may surprise you, but F is a champion eater. He chowed a slice of quiche that his brother gagged down yesterday. He hasn't met much that he won't eat, and even tried the pumpkin guts during our annual pumpkin lobotomy day. Tomorrow we'll find out what percentile he falls into, but since he's just shy of 25 lbs, I'm guessing "big."
He shares his brother's love of all things electronic. One of his favorite toys is the TV remote, which he grabs, points at the screen, and then looks at us, as if to say, "What's the deal?"
I'm in love. I look upon the end of his infancy with melancholy. I look forward to seeing what kind of child my chubby cherub is going to become, but I know my arms will feel empty when he's off running after his brother. Happy Birthday my little love.
1 comment:
Great pics! And good job on the cake, it looks great!
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