Ronan, we love you.
The other night I cuddled Ronan an extra thirty minutes before putting him down. He was in just a diaper and sleeping in my arms. I snapped a mental picture of those adorable lips, chubby cheeks, tummy, and rolls (+ rolls + rolls, down to the toes), and just hugged on his sweet little bod. It takes self control not to squeeeeeeze this lil chunk – he’s so delicious!
Moments like this make me wish he’d stay a baby forever. Just never grow up – grow up and not really need me anymore; grow up and move away. </3 Nooooo. It has me reminding Brad to call Mama H more. (We love you, Oma!)
This dude even beats Evey, our peaceful giggly one, in the laid-back baby department.
And, ooh baby, those eyes. Killin’ me, every time.
They are almost purely blue with little sparks of green near his pupils. Knowing that at 6.5 months they can still change, I tried, to no avail, to feign indifference. I LOVE THEM! Maybe they will stay blue (like Papa Cooley) or fade green (like Dad Brad). Maybe they’ll even darken to hazel (like Mom).
In the car he squeals and giggles 90% of the time. It makes us all crack up. Evey will counter back, “Bubbs! What you talking ’bout Bubbs!?” That just makes him (and us) laugh even harder.
He’s was sitting at 4 months but two weeks ago he realized he could sit back and balance himself (without leaning forward with his fists on the ground). This self-discovery resulted in a week of Ronan laughing out loud while wobbling in circles without falling down. His squeals could be heard from the other side of the apartment.
He’s loving avocado, which was his first food (like his big sis), carrot, broccoli, apple, and banana. He’s not loving store bought baby food and prefers just gnawing on whatever he can get his hands on.
At six months he’s sill in bed with Mom + Dad, despite my pitiful (practically non-exsistant) efforts to get him into his own bed. (I’m normally too tired and fall asleep before getting him in there…)
Current names are: Ronan, Bubba, Bubbs, Chunky, and Fat Boy. (Yes, Fat Boy via Bradley…)
Evey and I have a song we’ve sung since his first week home. It’s not too complicated. It goes: “Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan we love you! Ronan, Ronan, Ronan we love youuuu!” (Repeat x3).
Sorry you have to wear so much pink and have zero personal space. That’s how it goes, little bro.