My Timmy

Timmy is 5 months old today. I'm not really sure how that happened, but it did, and I'm not really sure how I feel about it. Last night I started looking at old pictures of him on my phone, and I started to cry. I just loved him as a cuddly newborn. He is more than double his birth weight now and could literally eat that little baby from 5 months ago. I think he'd jump at the chance.

He is in a state of constant movement--his arms and leggings kicking out every which way. It's impossible to get a clear picture of him. When I lay him on the bed, he immediately tries to pull himself up but doesn't quite have the stomach muscles for that yet. He rolls over and moves all around his crib; I believe he'll be more active than Birdie ever was as a baby. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, I think Birdie will stay in a crib until she's married. She has no desire to move or change her current world. Timmy, on the other hand, will be different. He already babbles and coos more than she does. I love his raspy little voice; it's amazing how different it is than the girls. Everything about him different, actually, and I love it.

I think I love the most about Timmy is the way he looks at me with absolute adoration. He smiles biggest for me, and I need that. Because he's my last baby I really need that. (My heart still aches that there will be no more babies, even though I know it is the smartest thing for our family.) I am so grateful for him, and I wish everyone could have a baby like him.

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"Be kind and considerate with your criticism... It's just as hard to write a bad book as it is to write a good book." Malcolm Cowley