My boy, all 7.18kg of squishiness, is six months old. He's well and truly come alive.
From a frail, tiny being in a humidicrib to a squishy ball all legs a-kicking.
He's a little pork dumpling of joy. In fact, Goosey is often worried that if we take him to the dumpling restaurant he will be mistaken for one.
He giggles and smiles with delight at most things. Will drop his lip at strangers. His eyes light up when he sees his Dad and his sisters. His legs kick furiously with excitement, busting to get out there and on with life.
He's laid-back and calm, but has a cheeky glint is his eye.
He had his jabs yesterday and looked like Bruce Banner just before he turns into the Incredible Hulk.
He's having his first taste of solids today.
I can't imagine life without him. And despite his night time shenanigans he's pure, 100% joy.
|D with his tired and old-looking mama.|