This jolly barnacle is built like a 1930s boxer, and walks like Frankenstein's monster. The things that make him most happy are still being held, tickled, giving zerberts, and EATING.
Besides a hefty load of "DADADADADA" he walks around saying, "I DID IT!" all the time. Sometimes it's obvious what he just did; he got ahold of the ___ he wanted, pushed himself up, gave Jude a zerbert, but sometimes he just says it and we assume he must be talking about blinking his eyes or breathing in and out. This nearly omnipresent phrase is cute, and mixed in at times with "I NEED THAT!" or "I GOT IT!
He takes a 2-3 hour nap, and has yet to give me the witching hours in the afternoon that are so prevalent in little runts.
He calls me "Nonny" most of the time, sometimes "Momma."
He's in that phase where he is such a klutz and a complete and total danger to himself. He gets a new bruise or scrape before the last one has a chance to heal. You can see the shiner he got from the bathtub -- I promise I was holding onto him! I just pray he keeps his teeth.
He loves to arrange and with just a teensy amount of guidance, he will clean up toys in their proper place, and loves to throw away trash. Or anything into the trash. I have fished several non-garbage items out of the trash can, and a bottle of Aquaphor I saw him walking around with is still MIA. I suspect I shall never see it again.
I spend so much time kissing his poofy cheeks; he's still the dreamiest Graham of them all.