Miles. Ohmygod Miles. Look at him:
I know, right? RIGHT? He's so freaking cute. Look, look at this one:
Are you still there? Because if you've died from the cuteness that is Miles William, while I apologize to your children and spouses, I am not at all surprised.
This kid is glorious. Glorious! He is like some kind of angel baby. Seriously, look here, you can practically see his halo:
And if those pictures killed you dead, you should try actually being in his presence. He is so awesome. Like a big old tub of awesomeness with awesome oozing over the edges and covering the whole floor with awesome.
If you just make eye contact with him, he's smiling his face off. If you smile at him, he'll start giggling. Pretend to maybe think about tickling him, like just wiggle your fingers over his fat belly and he burst into the most robust, full-bellied baby laugh you can even imagine. Like it's filled with rainbows and pots of gold and unicorns and stuff. Really. If you actually make tickle contact? It's completely outrageous. The laughter from this kid, it's addictive.
He glows. I swear to god he does.
My time alone with him is so special, so amazing. I call it basking in the Miles William sun. He just radiates this happiness and light that is absolutely invigorating.
He has a super fast, super sweet army crawl. He DIGS those knees in, solider and goes goes goes! He follows Oscar. He launches himself onto his older brother and smothers him with wet baby kisses and the both just laugh and laugh. Sometimes they roar at each other and then burst into wild giggles, "Miles dinosaur! Oscar dinosaur!" In these moments I know Miles is the best gift I will ever give to my oldest son.
Eight months old. My baby Miles is eight months old. I have no idea how it happened, how he's grown so fast, how he's become such an amazing human being. I am so incredibly grateful for this joyous little boy.