Big Boy

Noah is getting so big - 26 inches last week. He is very social, smiling at everyone and laughing all the time. We are continuing to work on the cereal and rolling over. He loves to study his hands and grab his feet. We go to the pool with Grammy and Grandpap several times a week - practice for our big beach trip.

Newsbreak....As I write this, I glance over at Noah, happily playing in the exersaucer, clad in only a diaper. When suddenly, I catch the first glimpse of brown goo slowing oozing up his back! I swoop in, saving the exersaucer seat from almost certain peril, and run to the diaper changing station, calling out for reinforcements. Daniel springs to the rescue, holding Noah upright so that I can remove the poopy offender and wipe like mad, hoping to reduce the rapid spread of what can only be compared to nuclear waste from it's travel further down Noah's leg, making a mad dash for the white changing pad. It's us against the poo, in the fight of our lives. With lightening movements and about fifty wipes, we save the pad from all but two drops of the offending substance.

Since the introduction of cereal, Noah's poop has taken on new character, a life of it's own. While the poop is less frequent, it is proceeded for several days by a pungent ominous gas - a warning as if to say, "Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but I'll get you, and soon!"

We've defeated the diaper this time, but I can almost hear his whiny voice calling out from the diaper pail, "I'll be back."