Three Months

I'm pretty sure the past three months have been the quickest of my life. I don't know how I woke up one day and Truman was suddenly three months old.

He recently discovered his hand (almost exclusively his left hand), and after a few days of staring at it and figuring it all out, he's moved on to batting things on the play gym and grabbing at his toys.

He is the happiest, goofiest, smiley guy around. (Unless he has a bubble or is hungry. Then, you will pay.) His eyes have a special way of twinkling and melting your heart when he gives you one of his grins. He's a talker and loves to coo, gurgle and babble. He tells the best stories, and really lights up when you converse back with him.

He barely has any hair on top and just has a fringe around the back of his head. The other day I contemplated shaving off all of it. I still might. He doesn't have much to lose, other than a snaggle 'do.

He went on a hunger strike after getting his vaccinations last week. Three-month old hunger strikes are worse than newborn figure-this-out spans.

Truman takes a lot of aggressive love from his sister. Usually he is a champ, but sometimes she tries "offering" his pacifier a little too forcefully or weasels herself in under the play gym with him.

He was sleeping through the night fairly consistently. Then Chris left to scout camp (perfect timing, kid). I keep reminding myself we'll get there again. And hopefully soon.

All around, we're big fans of the little guy. As long as the minimum standards are met, he's a chill dude.