Six months

Devin is officially six months old. And someone this weekend described him perfectly--that boy is fat and happy. He is a whopping 18 lbs. 10 oz. and is 28 inches long. So he's 90-something percentile for length and 70-something for weight, and his head is finally starting to catch up. It upgraded to the 37th percentile. He learned how to roll over just after I voiced my concerns that he wasn't moving to the pediatrician. I don't think he'll be a speed demon at reaching his milestones, but you have never seen a happier baby. We went camping this last weekend with a lot of Mike's family, and we just kept hearing comment after comment about how happy he was. Granted, he was in his element--being held all the time by adoring fans who showered him with hugs and kisses and smiling faces. How could you not be happy? Although, even without being in the limelight, he would be happy. The kiddo wakes up in the middle of the night with a blowout and he's still delighted to see you. Other interesting facts, he couldn't wait to get his hands on real food this weekend. We didn't start yet because we were camping but he sucked on a piece of my bread with relish (as in he was excited, I wasn't eating bread with relish on it that would be gross) and ditto with an apple and he stared at everybody's food nonstop. Also, he drools like crazy. The boys like to say "He drools like Charlie Thacker." It's become a little song. Sorry Sharon. I keep waiting for the teeth to pop out but they haven't yet. Devinator isn't sleeping through the night yet, but that's my fault. I'm a total pansy about it this time. I can't let him cry because he sounds so sad when he does and because I almost never hear him cry. But it's only once a night now, and soon, hopefully, I'll be tough enough to finish the job.