The boy will be eleven months tomorrow.
Considering I started this blog as a way to chronicle my baby's growth, I haven't written much about him lately. Teaching has basically been a boot to the head so far this year, and I've had about five minutes to myself since August. To temper the sting, though, my soccer team has had a swell season, and in a week we'll be garnering a decent berth at the state playoffs.
So what has the boy been up to lately? Not much. He seems to be past the milestone-every-week phase. He's not walking, not talking, not cruising, not waving, not clapping, not teething, not drinking from a cup, not potty training (that's a-waaaay off). Not that he's unhealthy or anything. He's been deemed "normal" at this point, despite the circumstances of his birth. He's just on the cusp. It's like he's gearing up to turn into a real boy, but Jiminy Cricket hasn't visited just yet. (Is that the wrong reference? I don't like Pinocchio.)
So what is there to say?
He is cute. That's not a milestone. He was born that way. Lady Gaga would approve. (I'm going to consider taking that reference out completely.)
How about some pictures, then?
Yeah, I know.