Happy five months my little man.
You have changed so much in these past five months; I can't believe you're this old.
You are now rolling over front to back and back to front, and refusing to stay anywhere you are put. You are squirming your feet up underneath you--determined to figure this crawling thing out as fast as possible, apparently.
You have two teeth and are apparently working on a third and maybe a fourth.
You smile and laugh and giggle at the world.
Music makes you stop everything and stare in wonder.
You are a chatterbox who frequently wakes me up first thing in the morning by patting my face and jabbering to me. For an hour (it's a good thing you're adorable because my morning quiet time is sacred normally).
You're still very bald looking, but if I run my hands over your little head, I can distinctly feel fuzz forming--possibly blonde?
And your beautiful eyes--from that muddy brown when you were first born to a brilliant blue--more blue than your sister's eyes if that is at all possible.
I love you from your fuzzy head to your chubby arms and even chubbier legs and tootsie-roll toes.
Happy 5.
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