I can't believe we have a six-month old! (Six and half now... but meh.) Who should be only four months... and is, gestationally, so is doing four-month old things. Like...
Gurgling, babytalking, blowing raspberries, dribbling copiously, chomping on anything he can get his hands on... all of which may escalate to shouting as he grows impatient with not being picked up/being unable to explore the world around him/sore gums/?????
Laughing his full-bellied, delighted laugh, especially for his Dad. Even when K does something as simple as walk in the room. Which I think translates as... I ADORE my Dadda. (If I was a comic-sans, every-letter-a-different-colour, blinking ClipArt kind of person, 'ADORE' would be tizzied up thus.) I love this photo, even though it looks staged (it wasn't - just an afternoon at the beach, sitting on the tailgate... he didn't even know I had the camera).
Becoming shy around strangers, including his own reflection if he is feeling a bit grumpy/out of sorts.
He has recently developed an untamed 'rodeo' arm when on the boob/bottle. Hilarious.
And still sucks the air in his half-sleep after the boob/bottle is gone. Cutest. Thing. Ever.
Is happiest in arms. And happier still, high on one of our shoulders where he can see things best.
Has one long eyelash at the outer edge of his left eye that points down. Loveheart nostrils. The cutest little random dimple between his tummy and chest. Big 'little' toes that promise to pose problems for off-the-shelf footwear. And the sweetest little excitable pant.
Loves being read to. Though if he's in play mode, the words take a back seat to getting his mitts around the book.
Is most chilled out when outdoors. Absolutely. LOVES. The beach. And can be amused for a very long time by the old pandanus in our yard which make a papery sound in the wind (of which we have plenty).
Loves watermelon... but really mostly just has eyes for milk. Speaking of which. We've been blessed with one HUNGRY little caterpillar. There is no longer a need to explain his early arrival, as people's first reaction when told he is six months is something along the lines of 'OMG, he's huge!'. He's big. Twelve-month old kind of big.
I look at photos of when he first came home, or *gasp* from hospital days, and I cannot believe how small and skinny he was. He's put on eight kilos in six months... making him around 10kg now. I find it bizarre how I get stuck in the moment, almost unable to imagine him beyond now. When he was that small we never believed he'd be this big. And now it seems impossible that he will soon sit up unassisted, or crawl, or talk or ... stand. But hindsight tells me these milestones are only heartbeats away.