Trust me, I know.
And I'm imagining Will's complaints 10 years from now when he finds that all of Margaret's and Ellie's milestones and what have you are painstakingly recorded and he's got nothing.
Well, not nothing. Evidence that I did try, but just couldn't maintain interest. And I see his point, I really do, but I'm mentally reminding him that he's going to get three years at home after his sisters have left, and since I'm currently employed (which is what's causing this lack of blogging) we will have more income and he will benefit from that. Better vacations and all.
When not having imaginary future arguments with my children, I decide that I must do better.
So here is Will's 6-month check-in.
He had a doctor's appointment this morning, and the doctor wanted to know if he was grasping at things. He's just spent 10 minutes while she was there doing this to the exam table.
He's also, she says, "long and lean," which I suppose he is by numbers -- 50th percentile for head circumference, 75th for weight and 90th for height -- but no one looking at that baby would say "lean."
Chubby. Chubby is the word for those thighs.
He's not babbling (even though I gave him a hard deadline of today), and he won't roll from his front to his back, even though he can do this.
I think it's just stubbornness.
In other exciting news, we convinced him to sleep without his arms tied down, and that has begun (slowly, very slowly) to lead to better sleeping at night. Now he sleeps like a zen baby. It's adorable.
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