Friday, July 23

eight

foster, at eight months old you love to laugh at your big brother. he does the goofiest things and you let out the loudest squeals. and even though we know i'm your favorite you seem to keep chanting "dada" in your crib when you wake up. it's okay, i'll forgive you.

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you've been enjoying munching on apples, little pieces of bananas and cheerios. but, inconveniently for me, your favorite are biter biscuits. they get ALL OVER YOU many times each day and i should really bathe you more. something tells me you're ready for bigger and better eats...maybe it's the hairy eyeball you give to anyone near you with real food.

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you are getting too big for your jumper so it's time to start finding new ways to entertain yourself, little man. the swing is a favorite past time of yours and your bath? oh, you could splash in there for hours if i let you. i keep thinking you are getting more hair but then am lead to believe it's all a dream. it's okay, brody makes up for your lack-of-hair... and then some.

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you are sleeping 6:30-7:30 -- am i a little spoiled? you're developing the love for moo, baa, la la la that your brother had at this age. it's bringing back sweet memories for me and you always giggle when it's all over and we squish our faces together. you continue to laugh like a little lamb and you always make this "huuuuuuu" sound that makes me feel like you're the most content little babe in the world.

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you and brody are the only biggest fans of my singing. and you, sir, could watch a fan spin around and around for quite some time. i love every little bit of you, foster. (even the parts that aren't so little like those chubby fingers and thighs), you're perfect!

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