That's half a year, people. Mr. Torpedo Man had his half-birthday yesterday, and to celebrate he got . . . baby oatmeal and sweet potatoes. Nothing says "Party like it's your (half) birthday!" like being spoon-fed unseasoned purees. Yum!
Mr. tall-and-skinny had gotten too long for 6 month sleepers, so we've moved up. The rest of his wardrobe rotation is a mix of 6 and 9 month items.
Meanwhile, he continues to be the happiest baby. Everyone who meets him comments on it. He just can't stop smiling.
He still likes to babble and coo. And try to eat his hand. He tries to be dainty and go a finger or two at a time. Then he gets frustrated, throws in the towel, and goes for the whole fist at once.
He is sitting up independently, but generally doesn't try very hard to keep at it. He'd much, much, much rather flop onto his belly and try desperately (and I do mean desperately) to move forward. He is successful at about 6 inches an hour. He wants to go faster. He's getting some good cross-body motion, but hasn't figured out how to get his knees under him yet. He tries to army crawl, but ends up spinning. After a few minutes of all of this, he gets tired and frustrated and cries. Poor guy.
Most of all, though, he loves to stand. He loves to stand on laps, stand being held on the floor, stand holding onto the coffee table or couch. Stand, stand, stand. Do not make me sit Mama. Do not. I think someone wants to keep up with big sister!
He is far too easy to get pictures of! With Clare, I had to get her dressed and ready, sit her in the chair, and go through 20+ shots and 20+ minutes to get a decent picture. Yesterday, I got his smiley mug in about 5 minutes. :-)