Dexter Ian is five months old today. In the past month he’s become more, well, dexterous. Matt and I observe developmental leaps just about daily, visible in the way he handles his toys and interacts with people. He laughs when we play his favorite games: “Oh No Mommy Dropped The Baby” and “Oh No Mommy Turned Into A Zombie And She’s Going To Eat Your Brains.”
Speaking of eating, we are trying out solids and Dexter has enjoyed a gourmet meal of runny oatmeal for two dinners now. Sleep continues to be an issue (I have him wrapped on me and am trying to get him to drop off as I type this) and it is extra challenging since he’s outgrown his bedside rocker and moved onto his crib. Matt and I have teamed up and made a plan and are determined to crack it, right in time for Dexter’s next developmental leap when we’ll have to start all over.
The other day, Dex was practicing barrel rolls on our bed and I turned to Matt and said, “I can’t believe we have this awesome baby. And he LIVES in our HOUSE.” My sister tells me that awed feeling never really goes away. I hope she’s right.