I’m feeling pretty smug now that I’m the mother of a seven-month-old. Yep, everyone is sleeping at night (for months now), the kid knows how to nap, he’s been on an airplane, he eats solids, and he can recite Shakespeare. Haaaaa just making sure you were listening. There’s no Shakespeare happening yet. But! When I say “Where’s Daddy?” he looks over at Ryan with a big grin. And that’s just as good, right?!
This child of mine loves sweet potatoes and bananas and asparagus and peas and pretty much just eating in general. He’s chubbing up and it’s my favorite thing to grab his squishy baby thighs and just squeeze ’em. He loves dogs, too, and will let them just come right up and lick his toes and his face and he thinks it’s just swell. But most of all, the kid loves cups. I mean, give this baby a cup and he will be your best friend forever until you can’t stand it any more. Mostly to-go cups, like if we had a fountain soda from Chipotle on Monday, he’ll still be playing with the cup on Friday. He wants to be a big kid and drink from cups SO BAD! But mostly he can’t figure it out and just chews on the bottom. No joke, we took a cup with ice in it on the plane ride home from Colorado and he played with it for probably half of the flight.
So what else, you ask? He’s starting to copy sounds. He’s getting lots stronger at sitting up. He so wants to scoot but for the life of him can’t figure it out. He’s just as happy as ever and every day I wish I could stop time because surely being a mom doesn’t get any more fun than this, right? And then the next day comes and something even more fun happens. Why did nobody warn me about this?!
Happy seven months, tiny dude! xoxo