Lachlan turned one year old earlier this month. He remains one of the more serious of my children. He feels a strong sense of justice and routinely lets everyone know he’s not getting his fair shake.
Lach does a belly worm crawl, pulls to standing, and walks if I hold his fingers. Everything goes into his mouth, he nursed like it’s his only sustenance, finally sleeps at night, and is just starting to communicate with sign language – I’m told. He doesn’t think he needs to show me. I did get the cutest little nod from him today. Another sausage patty was cause enough for him to break code, I guess.
As baby of the family, he’s already figured out how to be tough, how to pay Creed back when he’s too rough, and how to get what he wants. He’s got the best grin, is much happier now that teething has taken a break, and he’s made it his mission to show me how old I really am.
He’s so loved.