Eight

Today, Mason turned eight months old.

Our photoshoot was mostly a bust, as I couldn't get him to sit still long enough to take a decent picture. Plus, something must have been wrong with my camera, because he just didn't look like a baby in any of them. He looks like a little boy. When did that happen?!

At eight months old, Mason's finally starting to like solid food. He is thisclose to crawling. He's toothless, but it's very possible that he'll wake up tomorrow morning with a couple of chompers. He's full of smiles and he's completely his own little person. Sometimes, when he tries to suck his thumb he pokes himself in the eye. Giraffes are his favorite animal and he loves when I read Dr. Seuss. He's anti-nap and pro-playing-peekaboo-at-three-AM. He's attached to me at the hip.

He's eight months old. Can I go cry now?