Six Months

Last week (or so?) Max turned six months old. That is half a year! Where did the time go, folks? This ball just seems to roll faster with the birth of each child.

My sweet little baby has me completely and hopelessly in love with him. It's because he is so cute.


And juicy and squishy.


And because he looks at me like this,



And because when I take pictures of his baby blues in good light it makes me forget that I want Photoshop.



And because he does cute things like this,



Oh I am a sucker for the foot grab.


Our family dinner has turned into a comedy routine. Inevitably, each night we sit down together and Dan ends up holding Max on his lap while he eats one handed (good daddy, huh?) This puts him in a prime position to see Luke's antics.



The only thing is, they never really start out as antics. Luke just says something, anything. He coughs or drops his fork on accident. Yet to Max these are apparently the funniest things you could do at the dinner table. And he begins to laugh. And laugh. And laugh. Which perpetuates Luke's antics into real antics. And soon we are all giggling (unless I am grouchy and tired and instead of giggling, remind the kids over and over to "stop trying to be funny, sit on your bottoms, and eat your dang dinner!")

But usually we're all laughing.




He is starting to sit up.


I like to call it the tripod position. But after about 20 seconds it looks more like this,




Then slowly like this,



Then,


Until, eventually his nose is rubbing the carpet and we throw in the towel.

Despite enduring his second round of ear infections, he is maintaining his cheerful disposition and we are all happy about that!