Thursday, January 26, 2012

Seven Months

My baby CJ is seven months old today. I can't believe how much he has changed since he was a tiny (9 pound) newborn.
But at the same time, it's as if he has always been just as he is right now.

He weighs 22 pounds and at his last checkup was 28 inches long--roughly 95th percentile for both. He rolls and rolls and rolls, all day long. He works hard on sitting up, but sometimes still does a random faceplant.

He is starting to like certain solid foods. Last night I sat him in his high chair and, assuming sweet potatoes were on the way, he opened his mouth like a baby bird. Except I gave him pureed peas. Oh, the face he made.
Lame, mama. Totally lame.
He has a variety of hobbies:
  • Babbling, cooing, screeching, blowing raspberries, and growling.
  • Watching the cats do pretty much anything. As soon as he catches a glimpse of one of the kitties he starts bouncing, babbling, and smiling.
  • Standing on the couch to look out the window and watch the cars zoom by.
  • Taking off his socks and trying to eat them.
  • Going for walks outside.
  • Stealing things off of the coffee table.
  • Taking baths.
  • Playing with daddy.

He goes to bed at 7pm and usually sleeps through the night until 6 or 7 am. Naps continue to be a challenge, but are trending in a good direction.

His extreme fussiness (I won't call it colic. Even though it sucked, it was nowhere near what some of my friends have described) has almost disappeared, although it does tend to rear its ugly head around 5pm. This is what I call "Mandatory Moby Wrap Time".

Me? I never fuss.

Except when I'm sleepy, of course.

But even if he fussed all day and night and never let me sleep a wink, I would love him anyway. Did my heart love till now?

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