Things are really accelerating around here. You seemed to grow into a little boy over a weekend, learning to crawl and sit up in the span of twenty four hours.
Your smiles are still irresistible and your growth spurts are still killer. You almost had sleeping through the night down, when another spurt hit and you awake to scream around three in the morning and fall back asleep.
I finally printed photos from your birth for the scrapbook, and cry at the difference months have made. Every month you're a new boy, and it's always bittersweet. Luckily, I love you more and more each one.
What I'm Wearing
What Thatcher's Wearing
top /old navy
pants /old navy