Mal is 6 months old!

Six months ago (and a couple of hours), this little dude was born! (The human one.)

So, here's the mandatory update:

HEIGHT/WEIGHT: We haven't made it to the six-month well check yet, so let's just say that Mal is heavy, and his feet hit my knees when I'm wearing him.

FAVORITE FOOD: newsprint and receipts

LIKES: biking with Mom (until he doesn't); bouncing in his "jungle" or door bouncy (until he doesn't); smiling at people, cats, the back of his sister's head, screen savers, and passers-by to the Nuthaus; the bell rattle that came in his Citrus Lane box, month three; adventures with Dad when Dad gets a notion to wear him on a walk; his Mama!

DISLIKES: peas (and that's saying something because dude will suck on a wet nap); sleeping alone.

FAVORITE SONG: the song of his people. He hums it often; it's in a minor key and frequently has only one note. It is oft-repeated to the point that I often vow to do physical harm to my tympanic membrane so as never to hear it again. 

RECENT DEVELOPMENTS: Mal laughs a lot, which we like. He also screams. Not so much with the liking. I'm not sure how to train him out of that. He is delighted by this new-found ability. He can crawl backwards like a pro, and has managed to go forward a couple of times that resembled hard work rather than dumb luck. He has two bottom teeth, just broken through in the last month, even though he's been teething for about three months. I'm pretty sure he knows "da-da" is his dad, even though he patently refuses to call me "ma-ma" or respond when we ask where I am because, seriously, I'm always right there.

Mal will little note nor long remember his first half-year on the planet, but it has altered our family forever. It's been a challenge and a joy. A privilege, and a hard-fought one. This is the part where I think it starts getting fun. I can't wait for the next six months! The next six years, even.

Happy half, Malcolm Khrystopher!

POST SCRIPT:

Here's an anecdote I want to remember and hope you find amusing:

I was frosting a cake the other day (first one since he was born!) and had Mal sitting in his high chair while I did it. His dad was amusing him when he'd get fussy about being down so long. At one point, Mal grabbed the empty frosting tub, and I was fine with letting him play with it. Then suddenly we heard easily the happiest noise we've ever heard come out of that baby, and it was then that I realized that there was some frosting around the rim of the tub, Mal had eaten it, and he was sitting there giggling with the cutest, "Heh. Heh heh. Heh heh heh heh hehhhh!" James wanted to get a video of that, so grabbed the camera. It seriously tickled us a lot. But then Mal got distracted for two seconds, and I quickly removed the icing tub, because I don't want him getting on the sugar train for a while yet! Sorry I ruined James' video, but boy gotsta eat, and I can't have him holding out for icing. But I get it, little dude, I totally get it. He is definitely my son.