Joy

Greyson's baby talk is changing. What used to be mostly "da da da" is morphing into a variation of consonants, mutterings and mmphs that actually sound like a whole other language. The child honestly doesn't have an emotion that he doesn't express. Today I walked with him to the post office to mail off a package. It was about 6 blocks away from our house. The child talked all the way there and all the way back. At one point, I stopped the stroller, looked over at him and said, "Greyson, who are you talking to?" It boggles my mind that as he sits in his stroller, facing forward with no visible company in sight, he's still talking! I think when he starts actually speaking, I might go a little crazy. Roque, I am certain, will start tearing his hair out. A day out with me, Greyson and his Uncle Arvin, will definitely send Roque way over his daily word limit.

We have been healthy for almost a month. Life is beautiful when Greyson is well and happy. He is a delight to be with and so much fun. He's sleeping beautifully both at bedtime and nap time. The latest challenge, which we hardly consider a challenge in light of all we've endured these last couple of months, has been rollover training. He rolls over in his crib and doesn't cry, but kind of hangs out and plays for way too long before his naps. It's been really hilarious actually, watching him futz around in his crib on our video monitor. Sometimes, he stares straight at the monitor and tries to grab it. When our nanny was here the other day, he rotated 180 degrees in the crib so his feet were facing the monitor and she started freaking out that she couldn't see his face. The problem happens when he gets tired of playing and then starts to fuss. Apparently playing on his stomach is fun, sleeping, not so much. He's such a character, our little guy. I am loving this age. It's just joy, joy, joy.