Standing
Evan has gone through a tremendous growth spurt the last couple of weeks, not only physically but also developmentally. He shows more affection than ever before. He gives his mother sloppy wet kisses, hugs and great big yelps and hiccups whenever she is present. He lifts his arms to her to be picked up and cuddles in her arms. Few of these things he does for me, but I'm not at all jealous.
Not even a little.
Nope.
Not jealous at all.
Not me.
Nuhuh.

Yep.

I guess I'm the fun one. I'm the person that makes him gut laugh and we play and we wrestle and roll around and we generally have a great time together. The pinnacle of our grab-assin is when I put him on my shoulders and we dance around. He pulls my hair like reins on a horse and literally squeels with delight. I love that stuff. Lately, we've been playing a mild version of peek a boo. Mild because all I have to do is look at him quickly and he cracks up. To really get him I say boo, but really it is not necessary, the kids cackling till he's red already.

He's suddenly developed turbo boost and 10 arms. The boy is everywhere all at once and we're constantly fishing objects out of his mouth, objects the good lord only knows where he dug up. I would not be suprised if I dug Amelia Earhart out of there someday. He pulls himself up on everything and hasn't quite got the concept of gravity down because he just lets go and turns and as we're flying across the room to grab him he does the woobly jib jib woogy woogy 6-7-8 plop, but he doesn't cry much and he only has a couple bumps for the wear.