It seems to be a common theme among many women that they want to eat their babies, a sentiment which causes husbands to try but fail to understand such a concept as being anything but cannibalistic. Upon first hearing it, I guess I can understand how it would seem less than nurturing, but the reality of babies of my own has caused me to have a ravenous appetite for baby yumminess. I gaze at this boy of mine in all the happy chubbiness of five months, and I want to roll him around in butter and sugar and munch on his rolls. He was over 18 pounds at his four month appointment so I may be full when I am done.
How different is this boy than he was five months ago.
This boy is the center of our conversations right now. The kids all drop by to visit him every few minutes when he's awake and we all talk about how much he's rolling around, who he's grinning at, and his funny faces like newscasters discuss politics, blow by blow. He is such a happy little fella, so long as he has a nap and some food regularly. He absolutely delights in all the attention too. He could be grunting and gnawing on his hands as he rolls around but when he notices someone looking at him, he stops and squeals happily. Oh, how we love our Chubster. Love. Love. Love him!
This month he finally made the move from the cradle to his crib. Here he was the first morning, checking out his new digs.
The other big event was his first solids three days ago.
The first reaction was dubious.
Then he had a range of expressions, which if I interpreted them, would be interpreted as:
- WHAT is that?
- Um, Mummy, if you would put down the camera and actually make the rice cereal the right consistency, instead of thick like tar, maybe I'd like it better.
- Eeep, I am stuck in this chair with no place to go.
Then I had a chance the other day to take a few shots of Theo with Ben.
He's loved all over, this child. He knows it too.
Five months into an eternity of loving our little boy. We're just getting started. We are so blessed to have him.