8 Months Old

Mr. Maguire.  Two-thirds of a year old.  And it’s showing.  He seems as though he’s closer to being a toddler than a baby these days.  Still sweet as ever, but definitely more particular about when/where/how/why and, most certainly, what he’s doing.  If it’s time for eating, don’t mess around with the schedule.  Get the food on the table — now! Which is fine by me…I seriously could just sit and watch this kid eat.  He’s amazing.  And is learning new things so fast!  Suddenly he’s all about finger foods and can’t get enough cheese and toast and noodles and particularly blueberries.  I can put a dozen or so on his tray and mere moments later, gone.  All of them.  And you would think, considering his age, a good portion of them would be on the floor, in his lap, the pocket of his bib.  Not a one.

And oh my, are we in for a world of trouble in the not too distant future…or at least a world with less sitting.  Our little dude is on the verge of crawling.  In fact, he wants to move so bad that he gets mad when his limbs don’t quite work they way he wants them to.  He is getting up all on fours now — and then rocks on his knees.  And that’s when he goes between being totally proud of himself, to being crazy angry when that toy is still juuuuuust outta reach.  Thankfully he has an obliging older brother who would rather just get him the toy than listen to his squawking.

Thankfully the one thing that has remained the same throughout all of his 8 months is that monster smile.  And the infectious giggle.  And the chubby cheeks.  And this mommy is hoping those things never go away (yes, even the cheeks!).