I am beside myself.
A few days ago I read through the comments from the day he was born. They made me cry. B is one loved baby.
B has semi-red hair, very red eyebrows, hazel eyes, and chunky thighs. He loves people, conversation, being scared, being chased, touching our faces - mouths especially - standing with help, sitting by himself, taking his toys out of his basket, and rolling, rolling, rolling. B doesn't cuddle much, but when he relaxes for a few minutes a day I hold him close and sneak kisses. He loves his bath, hates having his cream put on at night, but if we sing "Six Little Ducks" over and over he does okay. If things get really bad we put his small blanket with a bear head (weird thing, he loves it, most babies do) over his face. We call it B's quiet time. It's strange, I don't know why it works, but it does. B is busy, I rotate him from activity to activity to keep him happy. He loves being read to, going for walks, and hanging out in the Ergo while J works outside. He is a quick scooter on his back now. He drops his heels, digs in, pushes off, and he's gone. Honestly, I thought he would be crawling by now.
I feel like throwing a half birthday party. We had to wait on him, but it was worth it, and I want to celebrate all moments big and small.