Warning: Chub Overload

Molly, you are officially 5 months old today. I guess that might explain why you were up nonstop since midnight last night. God forbid we don't celebrate properly with a party-all-night-but-not-in-the-crib-with-our-eyes-closed mentality like you do. Seriously, child. You gave me such high hopes with your sleeping patterns as a newborn. Now you're all over the place.

Faker.

Stats-wise, the last time you were "officially" weighed (this past Friday), you clocked in at 19lbs 2oz. Your dad and I started trying to amass some sort of cooler-weather-clothes-collection for you and your brother while we were on vacation and y'all basically wear the same size. (That sound was my jaw hitting the floor because 24-month/2T clothing and YOU ARE ONLY FIVE MONTHS OLD OMG.) That badonkadonk of yours refuses to fit into anything smaller than size 24-months. Winter should be very interesting here wardrobe-wise. I have put your grandparents on alert to check all clearance racks for size 24-month capris, because that is just how short your legs are. They will fit like pants and be perfect.

You don't say!

You are sitting up on your own now, but I don't trust you enough to leave you sitting anywhere by yourself. You enjoy randomly flinging yourself backwards when we're sitting on the bed. You can also roll from back to tummy but get pretty frustrated if I don't flip you back over in a timely manner.

You hate pacifiers. Half of me loves this (no nasty pacifiers to keep up with!) but the other half of me is kind of grossed out thinking of what sorts of disgusting things your mouth will come into contact with by thumb-sucking (dirty hands!).

You look so so interested in food, but I'm holding off on letting you try anything til after next month. Although you would NOT quit reaching for a banana that your dad was holding the other day, so he let you attempt to taste it. You were not impressed. Hopefully that will tide you over for another month or so.

You ADORE Sam. I think you prefer him over me. If it weren't for the milk situation we've got goin' on, I'd bet money on it. And he loves you too. We were clearing out your closet today (you know, just bagging up the 9-month clothes), and Sam accompanied me on a potty break. (You were sitting in your sleeper/rocker in your room.) I assume you were a little peeved because we didn't bring you with us. (I'm sorry.) So I asked Sam if he would go talk to you. He ran away and when I peeked through the door, he was hovered over you, rocking you gently and speaking his little gibberish language that you probably understand perfectly. And you- YOU- immediately stopped whining and looked at him with happy eyes and a big, wide smile.

Yep, that one.

You were also whining while I was making dinner tonight (surprise! How dare anyone else eat around here..) and Sam creeped toward you, then quickly hiked up his shorts to reveal his BABY THIGHS!!!
(We squeal for that around here. He has such cute little skinny thighs, and he'll hike up his shorts to show them to us. So we hoot and holler and make a big deal out of them. I guess he thought Molly would think it was funny and stop crying. But alas. Even sweet baby thighs can't satisfy a baby during The Witching Hour.)

Do I look impressed? No? Good.

You are right on track with your development. The nurse-practitioner that saw you this past Friday was just so impressed with you. Your alertness, sunny disposition, willingness to cooperate during the exam, and of course, your size. People do a double-take when they find out that you are the product of breastmilk.

Say what now?

Goh-zillah!!!

And your cheeks are still defying gravity.

Also, I know you appear to never wear any clothes. But this little photo session was done this morning while we were the only two up. I didn't want to creep upstairs and risk waking your brother. So off with the swaddle and outside we went! You're in such a perfect mood in the mornings.

I love you!