Happy Five Month Birthday to my little (VERY LARGE) guy.
This morning, I reflected back on the post I wrote when my daughter hit this same time mark.
Then, I mentioned how I didn’t know where the five months had gone; searching for them, I could not find them anywhere. Time was going by so quickly.
I feel the same way this time, as it is hard to believe he is five months old (that sounds big. Well, he is big.), yet I think about the journey we’ve been on, and it has seemed like both the shortest time and the longest time in all of our lives.
I have talked so much about me, about my struggles, and now I want to tell you a little bit about my son.
As I said above, he is big. Not just big. He is enormous. He is in the 98th percentile for height and weighs just shy of 10 lbs less than his almost 4 year old sister. On Friday night, as we snuggled up for a cozy night in, my best friend, one of his godmothers, insisted on taking pictures of him in his diaper, as his rolls are quite remarkable. I think his thighs are the same size as mine.
But enough about his looks. He’s so handsome, yes, with a cleft chin and bright blue eyes, and hair that some people say is red and some say is blonde and I say is the milkman’s; but he deserves to be recognized for who he is.
He is zen. He is sweet. He is happy. He is content. He sleeps. If you read my Mommy, Ever After journey with my daughter, you know that she never slept. Unless she was attached to me. It was not until we moved into  our new house, and her into a big girl bed that she started to sleep through the night. But not my son. He’s a champ.
He’s physical. He is strong. He can sit up on his own and he loves to jump. He loves me, I can tell, but he reallllly loves his daddy. As he should. Because his daddy is amazing.
With this baby I don’t measure in milestones; I measure in sweet, open mouthed kisses, giggles, rolls of chub and ounces of incredible love.