Alec at seven months

My baby is seven months old now. He's energetic, busy, cheerful and GIGANTIC. I'm not sure exactly how much he weighs, but I recently had to move him up to large size Bumkins diapers covers because the mediums were juuuuust barely stretching to fasten, and they go up to 22 pounds. Given that he was 21 pounds 4 ounces three weeks ago, I think 22 pounds now is a pretty good guess. As far as I can tell, he's storing ten pounds in each thigh and five in each cheek (the observant will note that adds up to thirty pounds. My baby scoffs at the laws of space/time and basic arithmetic). He is firmly in 12 month clothes, as my last attempt to get one last wear out of his 9 month clothes this week resulted in freezing his meaty little shins, off the should shirts and onesies that when snapped under the crotch endangered our future granchildren. Unfortunately, since it is now February, he may have to spend the rest of the winter in swimsuits, given the current offerings in the children's clothing section.

In gross motor milestones, he can stand for a while holding onto something, and it trying very hard to pull himself up. Unfortunately, the thing he pulls up on most is the long, low plastic toy that is only eight inches tall, so he pulls himself up and then topples right over it. Given a while, I'm sure he could pull up to standing if he was doing with something taller, but he would have to figure out how to get over to it first. He has absolutely no interest in rolling around on the floor or doing any of the inchworming that's usually the precursor to crawling. Which makes it really inconvenient for him that he really wants to be on the move. He can sit in one place and play indefinitely, and I wouldn't be surprised if was one of those babies who got around by scooting on his butt. Every once in a while, he enthusiastically flings himself forward (optimally, when this would catapult him right off the bed) and does his best on-land Esther Williams impression, and he will also periodically lean forward until he winds up on his hands and knees, completely at a loss as to what to do next, but mostly he's a sitter.

He has taken enthusiastically to solid foods and is up to two solid meals a day, usually yogurt for one and fruit and cereal for the other. I've been more cavalier about the rate at which I introduce new foods than I was with K - partly because I'm not dealing with known food allergies like I was with her, partly because the rules we set up around babies and food seem unnecessarily arcane and the actual research is mixed. So far, no problems. He's even enthusiastically eating finger foods - little cereal puffs that melt down to nothing in the mouth, which he scoops up in his fist, but then holds between thumb and forefinger to put in his mouth, showing off his developing pincer grip. As of today, he has six teeth, two on bottom and four on top, which aren't yet very effective in eating but quite effective for taking wicked painful bites out of his parents.

He is a colossal flirt, tilting his head and smiling winsomely at us when we aren't paying enough attention to him. When we do interact with him, he beams with pleasure and babbles enthusiastically. Tonight, when I came into a room and he heard my voice, he threw himself backwards off of B's lap so he could greet me upside-down. The flip side of this is the galloping case of separation anxiety he's developed in the past few days. He'll still play independently for quite a while, although not nearly as much as he used to, but if we walk into sight, he immediately realizes how desperately he's missed us and needs to be with us. And his woe when we leave the room is epic.

This is such an energetic, happy age, and we have such a sweet, happy boy. If only we could keep him this way for a while longer:



(More pictures in the usual place)