John is fulfilling all the stereotypes about baby boys. He is a mover, constantly rolling or kicking or scooting or trying to crawl. He can sit up by himself for a few seconds, more if I position him into a tripold, but he hardly ever has to sit by himself with sister hands constantly beside him. He stands strong, likes to take steps. And he grabs at everything in his reach. He can even grab his pacifier and get it in his mouth.
He is usually pretty happy and content these days. Even the past two days, when he had a little cold, he'd flash us the soft grin. But today, he is feeling much better, as you can tell by that full face, triple-chin, crinkled nose smile.
And in those moments when he does get upset, he usually wants one of three things: to be turned out to face the world, to eat, or to go outside.
His sisters have almost forgiven him for the colicky weeks and now think he is a perfect baby. They still fight over who can hold him and play with him and stuff toys in his face. He truly has 5 mamas most days, and one pretty awesome daddy.
He is still petite; we'll see how much at his check up tomorrow. He is eating baby food but not cereal. He spits out any bite with rice or oatmeal cereal, even if it's mixed in with his fruit or veggie. We'll keep trying, though.
We love our little guy to the moon and back, and cannot imagine our world without him. It's been just over a year since we thought we were miscarrying, and it takes my breath away with gratitude that God let us have this little person in our lives.