So eight months. This kid is a bundle of energy and movement and curiosity and exploration. He spends his days like a pinball, bouncing from room to room, bookshelf to drawer to bucket of toys. He is also very very noisy. Constantly babbling and singing and squeaking. He laughs quickly and easily. His smiles are wide and delightful, grins really.
Carter has two teeth, both on the bottom, with maybe one coming in on top. We shall see. His hair is long and needs a first haircut. He has little wings above his ears. He continues to be tall and lanky. He actually reached the edge of the dining table on his tiptoes and then pulled his feet up into the air and just hung there for a second, giving me a heart attack.
At night after he goes to bed, sometimes I look at pictures of him from when he was little little. And it's absolutely heartbreaking how different he is. How very far gone that little infant is. He is so fun and charming and delicious now too that it's comforting for a minute but what scares me the most is how soon this will be gone too and he'll be a boy, too embarrassed to let me kiss him, too big to sit on my lap, too grown-up to be tickled. How am I supposed to let this baby go? It seems impossible, my heart will never be able to stand it.