here we go

six months old, ready for high chairs, sippy cups, and table food.

all smiles, anticipating a first bite of real food (well, inasmuch as finely ground processed oatmeal "flakes" stirred into breast milk is real food)

chomping down on his very own spoon for the first time, after weeks of imploring stares at the forks and spoons of his parents and sister.

how why when how how why when did we get here? where did our infant go? where did this big, happy sweet boy come from? oh, sigh. how quickly they grow.