like all first kisses, there was eye lock, a hush in the air in fierce competition with the buzzing of an electrical appliance, a lunge, and then, alas, a big ol' wet slobber kiss that misses the mark and lands on the nose. except, it wasn't truman and mines first kiss, and as my memory did a little jogging back to recall this, i realized, i MUST START BLOGGING again.
truman is ten months, and to be quite honest, that's only a guess. i really don't know-i mean, i'm pretty sure, but stab me in the foot, because it's all a daze, from the first kiss months ago to the first time he sat up unassisted to the first time his thrusting on hands and knees actually propelled him forward on the floor. a dreamy like, give me caffeine and an extra two hours of sleep in the morning, daze.
one of my favorite parts of the time in our life right now is the interaction between the two brothers. i often let conrad feed truman in the highchair, he makes the airplane noises as the spoon full of mashed up mango dips and dives around trumans mouth, and truman acts as if it's the most wonderful thing in the world for his big brother to be feeding him. i've started to leave the room while there playing togather too because i've noticed this dialogue that happens when conrad thinks it's just the two of them; it's very sweet, full of great instruction and advice and encouragement for truman. truman just seems to be delighted his big brother pays attention to him, even if it comes in the form of being tackled to the ground.
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