This week? He slept through the night. As in 9:30 p.m. - 5:30 a.m. Every. Night.
This week? He's sucking his thumb. A lot. Thank you, thumb.
This week? He's crying for joy. Andy called me when I was at work and I hear this raucous crying. I asked if anything was wrong. "He's smiling," Andy said, and we both just laughed. He squealed and squealed at the top of his lungs for no apparent reason except to discover that He Has A Voice And He Knows How To Use It.
This week? He's seeing things a little more, like toys and cats and mirrors and DADDY (squeal!).
Finally, the icing on the cake... the cherry on top... the coup de grâce without the negative reference....
He's rolling over. A lot. From his back to his stomach, pretty much every time we put him on his back. Roll, stare, complain until someone knocks him over. Roll, stare, complain until someone knocks him over. Roll, stare...
He's rolling over. A lot. From his back to his stomach, pretty much every time we put him on his back. Roll, stare, complain until someone knocks him over. Roll, stare, complain until someone knocks him over. Roll, stare...
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