So all the books say that 6 months old is pretty much the magic age. They start to assert their independence, learn the beginnings of manipulation, etc. etc. And, in classic form I guess, Wilder chose his 6-month mark to react as if I were his trained monkey: there to attend to his every sustenance and diapering need, and little else. "Eye contact? What's that? Smiles? I think not," he apparently said to himself upon waking up in the morning. Yes, the love of our lives is apparently getting more personality. And, dare I say, attitude. I'm starting to see how mothers get their hearts broken repeatedly. I already feel like he needs me less, but I'm sure it's a phase.
We don't actually have his 6-month doc appointment until a week from today, so no stats to report yet. He's doing all the normal developmental things, plus he's got way more hair. No chompers yet. And, blessedly, he's started going to sleep at night with very little fuss (knock on wood) and has even taken a few naps lately with no major outbursts. And, now that I've written that, I'm sure all will change promptly.
Anyway, more pics above: I did actually get a few shots w/o his back turned to me. And the one of him in his exersaucer is from this morning, when I was granted a bit of a grin.
No comments:
Post a Comment