Mr. Big Stuff

Our little guy will be eight months old on Friday... seriously, where has the time gone? Eight months? I keep waiting for someone to sneak up on me and tell me that it 's a mistake and he's really only 6 months or something (bigggggg difference, right?). He's such an interesting little dude and I find myself alternately cracking up at his antics and giving him puppy dog eyes because, well, he's really dang cute. All kids have their unique traits that strangers comment to you about and Jack's are definitely his big, big eyes and mile-wide smile. Like all good baby boys, his target audiences are grandmas in grocery stores who prefer his serenity to the blond tornado (they're fools to believe that he's serene but whatever) or moms with teenage sons. I get LOTS of those... "I remember when little Mikey was this age... sigh".

Jack lives life on his own terms and pretty much refuses to do anything that might be considered standard. I'm pretty sure his will of steel will outmatch his sister's (AHHHHHHHHHH!) and he is bound and determined to prove that you can always get what you want. There are times if I ever wonder if we'll get to some milestone (okay, really just the sleeping through the night thing), and then all of a sudden, wham, we're there. Jack treats it like "yeah, I could do that months ago but I just wasn't in the mood." He can be such a Valley girl; if he had hair, he would flip it all the time at me.

He marches to the beat of his own drummer -- you know how most babies get their two bottom front teeth and then their two top front ones? Not this guy. He did get his bottom two first but then decided he would rather get his top lateral incisors before his middle ones. He has a bit of a snaggle-tooth look but that doesn't stop his Don Juan impressions. Apparently, the ladies go for gap-toothed grins. He let us know a few weeks ago that he was going to start crawling by getting up on his hands and knees. Cool, right? Yeah, if he would go FORWARD. Little buddy just likes to scoot himself around backwards. It's not like he has some preternatural ability to sense large objects that are in his way; unlike Molly, he does not have eyes on his bum.

All his quirks are endearing, though, at least to old mom here. He's a big guy now and getting more animated by the day. He gets a kick out of watching the action take place around him but likes to have a seat front and center (or to stand and bounce in someone's lap). His laugh is outstanding and he gets in super giggly fits, which make us all crack up. We still enjoy our dates in the afternoons and every Wednesday, which is wonderful. He's a total (busy) love but enjoys nothing more than a good snuggle, for which I'm a total sucker.

Eight months... wow. I'm looking forward to the next eight months and all the fun and mischief we'll get into. But, truthfully, I'm also a little sad. I love the baby stage and it's a little sad to see a few months down the road when he'll be toddling and talking. All the stages are wonderful and exciting but this baby stage just goes so darn fast so I'm trying hard to stay in the moment and stick with whatever he's doing that day.

We take a lot of booster seat pictures but, honestly, Jack's usually pretty happy in there.

Lots of raspberry blowing these days. LOTS.

Mastering the ultimate rite of passage... "how big is Jack?"

Looking up at the big kids in admiration and awe