This kid has an uncanny ability to look like a different baby every five seconds. Not just every morning when we peek in his crib and wonder what happened to our baby (who put this little boy in here?) but different angles, different lighting, and his many different expressions really change the way he looks. Thank you to Eric, who always has the camera ready for an impromptu Saturday morning photo shoot.
This kid just gets more personality every day.
He laughs and smiles. He rolls over from front to back, and then spazzes out because he can’t roll back. He’s viewing the world not only from his tummy but also upright in his Exersaucer and his Johnny Jumper (which apparently they’re not called that anymore but it seems that any moms of, well, a certain age, know exactly what I mean when I use that term!) He LOVES Lilly. He hasn’t started solid food yet, nor is he sleeping through the night. He still spits up and he still doesn’t nap. But the kid is just gosh-darn happy all.day.long.
He also has some new funny faces, including this one. The lower-lip chew.
At five months Tyler is modeling his hat, a Christmas gift from Daddy, and his Patagonia fleece vest from the Taylors. Every day Eric and I comment that he looks less and less like a little baby and more and more like a little boy.
There’s probably about 82 things I could write in this post but here are two. Also, as I write this, Tyler is screaming in his room, not napping, on the floor. Because all hell breaks loose if he is put in his crib. The crib that he formerly slept in regularly, calmly, even adoringly. So, we make sure the door is closed so at least Lilly can’t get too friendly with him while he’s “napping.”
Here, in Exhibit A, we see Tyler with his usual drool-soaked outfit. Miss Val, the daycare lady, calls him “extra juicy.” Why no bib? 20% I forget and 80% they aren’t as cute as his cute clothes. Fail.
Here, in Exhibit B, we see Tyler unsafely fist-pumping while asleep in the Rock N Play. (He will sleep here, because it’s not the crib.) I would like to note that I do strap him in. It’s just that, while screaming, he can kick and squirm his way out. But then he’s actually asleep, so I watch him carefully for the duration of his sub-twenty minute naps. Fail.