Mason is mobile now, which is causing some hate and discontent among some of the other residents. Namely Avery. And Max. And me. OK, all of us. He's "crawling" the same way Avery did early on -- dragging himself around on his belly. He's pretty darn fast already; I hate to see what will happen when he figures out how to get up on his hands and knees. At any rate, here's some of the eight-month fun...
Eight months! If you look close, you can see his two bottom choppers.
"Peace out, Mama. I'm outta here."
A lazy Saturday in our jammies.
He likes to play peek-a-boo with Avery when we get him up from his nap.
He loves to swing...and Avery loves to push him.
Hanging out at the beach, where he wanted desperately to crawl off the blanket and shove handfuls of sand into his mouth.
Mason's superhero name has finally emerged: Destructor
This was Avery's first encounter with Destructor. She was not amused.
Even the most docile animals are not safe. Here he is taking down Avery's giraffe.
Here he pulled the whole gym over on himself. I was alerted to this when from the kitchen I heard Avery say "Pete Sake, Mason!"
Many Cheerios end up in his mouth nowadays. This one, however, he was saving for later.
This was a recent sweet moment when Mason and I were cuddling on the bed, and he was singing to me. Then he went on the offensive. He takes no prisoners.
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