God, those eyes. Happy Fun Baby has these huge, round eyes of indeterminate color (which will probably turn brown one of these days). Bambi eyes, just like his daddy, and he’s learning to work them for all they’re worth. Already I can sense that he will have us wrapped around his finger by the time he’s learned to say “I want that.”
He’s got so much more hand control now. He can not only grap the plastic rings, he can bring them to his mouth and chew animatedly on one. He can pull a board book across the floor to him and open the pages, clumsily. He can pull my hair, Not So’s hair, Auntie Bec’s hair, Cousin Mia’s hair. He often wrings his hands together while he’s nursing or hanging out in the Boppy, looking like a worried old man. And he can scratch his head. I don’t know why it surprised me so much to realize that he had an itch and had figured out how to scratch it, but it seemed so grown up to me, as though he might next start picking out his own clothes.
Such a beautiful baby. His whole face is a poem. I don’t know how we managed to create such an amazing child.