UGH. Total perfection, this babe.
I adore him so hard, sometimes when I’m holding him I just want to ABSORB him… engrave him into my memory like pressed tin so as to never forget. Those eyes, those lashes, that big toothy grin… I want to be able to run my fingers over these sweet things until they are worn smooth from the years.
He gurgles and coos and it sounds like cuteness incarnate. Like, I want to gather up his quiet little sounds and pet them and squeeze them and name them George.
He loves ears. And brothers. And brother’s ears.
He’s working on tooth 7 & 8 right now. SEVEN AND EIGHT. Try and wrap your mind around THAT.
(He has been kind to me though, the toothy monster, while breastfeeding. Unlike some of my other toothy children were. *cough*MYER*cough*cough*)
Life without Truman Arthur would be… less sparkly. Less giggly. Less drooly!
I am so thankful for him, this boy number three.
Happy 6 months, little Tru! You are the cherry on top!