Last night your dad and I went out without you and your brother. We talked about how quickly time is flying by, and that we're getting old. Your dad said that he feels like he's already got one foot in the grave (I promise, he was just being dramatic.) and that you and your brother are growing up so fast it feels like time is just blowing past us like a tumbleweed.
Except, it isn't. Sometimes time feels like it's going to fast, but right now time is moving perfectly for me and today you are 7 months old. I vividly remember the day you were born, as I'm sure I will for the rest of forever but I am also so excited that you are growing up. I've been thinking all day about what to write and I'm not really sure. You are such a special boy and I love you so much.
This past month, it seems that pretty much everyone, including your grandmas, has taken to calling you Chicker, or the Chick, or Chickie. You'll be a grown man and that nick name will probably stick with you for the rest of your life. I'm sorry about that, but sometimes that's just the way things go.
In the last few weeks you've made lots of great progress. You want to crawl, and have figured out the backwards scoot; you can pull yourself up onto almost anything that is standing still and you even think that you can walk when we hold your hands. I'm amazed at how well your motor skills are developing. You're light years ahead of your brother at this age.
You're eating #2 foods, think bottles are stupid except in the middle of the night, and are starting to figure out a sippy cup. Just the other day I gave your hair a trim - the third trim since you were born. Your hair is crazy by the way. It stands up straight on one side and lies flat on the other, just like mine.
When you were a tiny baby that just nestled into my shoulder every night I was convinced that you would be the sweetest most unassuming and calm little guy in the whole world. I think that in that regard, I was way of the mark. You, my little boy, have a wild and determined streak in you. Those hawk eyes of yours, I'm afraid, may be designed for mischief - and stitches and emergency room visits and maybe even bugs...something your brother and I are not looking forward to.
You love to be the center of attention - and scream at the top of your lungs when you aren't. The other night your dad was saying the prayer at dinner and as we all bowed our heads you started to scream. Then, that crazy brother of yours screamed back at you. Then you screamed. Then he screamed. The prayer never really got finished that night because your dad and I were laughing to the point of tears at the comedy unfolding before us.
That's right kid - you love your brother. And he luckily loves you back. The dynamic between the two of you is, well, dynamic. I know that you'll have your rough patches as brothers probably tend to do, but you two will be the best of friends. I can see it as you watch him, and in the way that the Monkey plays with you.
I guess for me, as your mama, the last month has been my favorite not only because of who you are and the amazing personality your developing, but because you're my little chubby wubby. I think I spend hours a day squeezing your legs, kissing your cheeks, and holding your ankle-less feet in my hands. There is no way that a picture can document how wonderfully squeezable you are - trust me, I've been trying. I know that you're going to follow in your brother's foot steps and that soon, this wonderful chubbiness will be gone. I long for it to stay - but it's okay.
I've got plenty of pictures of you in the bathtub to remind me of just how squishy you were.
I love you Chicker! And so does everyone else, probably in the whole wide world.
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