Seven months later...

Seven months later, and I still think I have the cutest kid around. I must be his mom, right? Oh, how we love having this little guy as part of our family. It's amazing to think he was once a whiny, often times unconsoleable baby, and now's he's full of nothing but smiles, laughs, and ok, an occasional cry here and there, but the cries are few and far between...thank GOODNESS for that.

I love getting to spend my time at home with this little man, even though I'm afraid I'm a rather boring mom. I make him watch the Today Show with me in the mornings, humor me on my runs in the afternoon, and if he's lucky, he gets to accompany me to the mall or the craft store for a little window shopping before John gets home from school in the early evenings. I'm pretty sure he already knows that shopping's a girl thing, and every time I say, "let's just look at one more store..." and I look at two or three, he lets me know that I have just lied to him. He's a quick learner, that one.

Everyone who see's my baby, and asks me how old he is, thinks I'm lying when I say his age. The other day at Michael's a lady asked me this, and when I said, "he'll be seven months in a few days" she laughed in shock and said she didn't even think her 11 month old is as big as he is. And he's probably not. He's already in some 12 month clothes, and even those are looking a little tight on him. In his defense, today he wore a 12 month shirt and six months pants...that were a little snug, but tight skinny jeans are in style for boys, right? Yes, we pick and choose which age range we make work around here.

He's a fast growing boy, and I'm ok with that. It just means I can be a little more reckless with him and treat him like the tough boy I know he's going to be. It also means when he gets shots, it's like no big deal to him. He's like what? You just shoved something sharp into my fat covered thigh, and it's supposed to hurt? Please! Where's my sucker? I'm pretty sure he screams harder when I walk out of the room these days, than he ever has for his shots. I think we're nearing that attachment phase...and for now I kind of find it endearing. John hates it.

Last month he weighed in at a whopping 21 pounds. I don't even know how much be weighs now, but my arms are getting nice and defined, so really, there ARE perks to having a heavy child. He's all boy, through and through, and I just love his chubby little self. Let's just hope in five more months he doesn't gain another 13 pounds, could you even imagine a one year old weighing 30 some odd pounds? Gross!

And I'll end here, even though I could ramble on and on about this cute little chunker a little longer. But, aside from select family members, I'm sure this is just another one of those boring mom post that no one really cares to read. 

Happy seven months little boy!