Liam is 9 months, going on 10. My little 6 pounder is going on 22 pounds, 30 inches. He's in 18 month clothes, and rolls where ever he wants to go. He wakes up happy, kicking and sometimes he even sings a song for us to wake up to. He loves when Truett plays with him, sings to him, and even tries to compete to see who can squeal the loudest (they are neck and neck). I love this little guy. The last 9 months have been a blur, but the best blur of my life.
The days of him letting me take his picture with the blocks are over. He dives for them and fusses quite loudly if I try to take them away.
He had to get some grass for a little snack. Grass doesn't chew too well.
This is his thinking look. He is deciding the quickest route to get the chickens. I know he would love to pluck some feathers.
A sweet smile for Mommy.
And, he's done.
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