Eight Months Old!

Just like Daddy

My little buddy turns eight months old today!

Peek a boo!

Just a few of the things Finn's learned this last month include: kicking his socks off on purpose, hitting two objects together to make noise, followed closely by clapping his hands, initiating "peek-a-boo"  (he grabs a blanket or any piece of cloth and covers his face, waiting for you to notice), opening and closing cupboards with knobs, getting up on his hands and toes like he's doing some strange version of downward-facing-dog, and using an object to pull himself up on his knees (he's dangerously close to standing up).

His latest accomplishment is waving.  He's not very consistent, but he seems to get the concept. Monday at my parents house, he waved bye-bye to Grandpa, and yesterday, when we went to see our friends' brand new baby, he waved at her.   It was very darling.  (He also wanted to play with her, but she was definitely too little for Finn's kind of "playing."  He didn't really mind this, however, as he was infinitely distracted by their three cats and a plastic cup or two.)

Brushes are also part of a well-balanced baby diet

We've been baby-food-making (and eating) machines over here at the Twomey house, trying new foods like apricots, mangoes, squash, and broccoli.  Finn has also been experimenting with whole foods, sucking on slices of cucumber, apple, and pear.  Like a vampire, he steals all their goodness and leaves his prey mere shadows of what they once were. . .warm, slobbery shadows.

Mama's latest accomplishment is making two different batches of bread- real, honest-to-goodness kneaded bread.  They were both moderately successful, despite Finn's attempts to distract me during the most crucial times, and the smell of fresh-baked bread alone is enough to encourage me to keep trying.  I don't have any picture of my bread (and  few new pictures of Finn), because I have finally killed the fancy lithium batteries on this camera.  They are exhausted and I haven't managed to rustle up any more.  You will just have to take my word that the bread was neither horribly malformed nor inedible.

Rather than indulge my penchant for thinking aloud that verges on pontificating, I will just leave you with two quotations on eyes that have been bouncing around my brain:



My eyes are ever towards the Lord: for He shall pluck my feet out of the snare: look Thou upon me, and have mercy on me; for I am alone and poor. -- (Ps. 24. 1, 2).
 (from the introit for the third Sunday in Lent)




I saw him looking up at her
and what she was doing
the way the eyes of saints are painted

when they are looking up at God
when he is doing something remarkable,
something that identifies him as God. 
(from "Love" by Billy Collins)

 

Today is: The Feast of St. Matilda

Finn is: EIGHT MONTHS OLD

Mama is reading: Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver