Thursday, August 1, 2013
The Boy is a Serious Boy, still. A Deep Thinker. A Ponderer of Life's Mysteries.
Mysteries like why Miss Lili is still allowed to run free range around here. I'm pretty sure if you could ask The Boy he would express his opinion that she ought to be locked up for her own safety, not to mention ours. (On a given day - today for instance - I'm inclined to agree.)
But anyway, another month has passed.
The Boy is basically the Best Baby Ever.
I'm not just saying that. Everyone says that.
And they are all correct.
This is one mellow baby. There's only one activity he really could do without: tummy time. This is, in his estimation, Baby Torture Time.
He is not interested in turning over, thankyouverymuch. Kicking arms and legs and squalling indignantly? Yes. Rolling over or actually enjoying tummy time? Not so much.
He still loves being held, music, bathtime, and pretty much anything else that comes along.
The Boy was born into an unsettled time in our family. There's moving (and wishing to move) and money questions and uncertainty. And he takes it all in stride. He helps me take it in stride too. Because this: