A taste of things to come?

This is Tristan. I was at his house a few months ago for a playdate. He's got three sisters, but I bet they don't let him scratch their heads. They really should, though. He's a natural.

Milo's getting better at scratching my head, and by that I mean he's moved from yanking the hair on my chest to yanking the hair on my face. It's not the most comfortable experience, but if he winds up being half as good as Tristan, I'll take it for now. 

Besides, I've learned to make the best of this phase by encouraging face-pulling sessions after a meal. Dan and Tiia think I'm giving Milo kisses. They're so cute.

Photobomb

I don't mind sharing the spotlight, but I prefer a little head's up. I may have smiled differently, possibly done a bit of a pose.

I can't work like this.

Here What I Woke Up To

Mornings around here are usually pretty predictable. I open my eyes after a good night's sleep and find Milo in Dan on Tiia's arms, sucking down a bottle. Today was a bit different.

Consequences

Dan and Tiia moved my bed out of the bedroom and into the playroom so I wouldn't nap on the plastic tiles anymore. Works for me.

Interesting

A guy on the subway asked Dan if I was depressed. Strange, considering the grin I was sporting at the time.

Mmmmmilo

Milo's diet has been getting more and more diverse lately, which means mine has as well. This is me enjoying the remnants of a banana-flavoured Mum-Mum. Did I wish it was cheese-flavoured? Sure. But beggars can't be choosers.

Who's walking who?

We used to take Milo for a walk. How fast they grow.

I must say that, for a novice dog-walker, Milo was pretty good; enough tautness to feel connected, but enough slack to not feel constricted. That's a Gramma Christine thing.