He's loves to lay on his belly and push forward, trying desperately to GET somewhere, but he doesn't. Just the other day we had our backs turned and we heard a thump. There was Miller, on his belly. He had maneuvered out of his bouncy chair and was trying to get to where the action was. Not a cry, not a whimper. Just action.
It's so funny. When I was pregnant, I thought about my Grandpa James a lot. He was very, very present in my mind (hence the middle name) and I wondered if part of his spirit would present itself. In the last month, Miller has started to sing. If there is music playing or I'm singing, he will sing along - with gusto! If he's in another room and I'm playing my guitar, he will cry until someone brings him to me. And 9 times out of 10, singing will calm him down when he's worked himself into a frenzy. Grandpa James? Who knows. But he certainly embraces his musical love. Now we'll have to see if he starts writing an opera. I'll give him until he's 4.
We're anxiously anticipating our trip north for Thanksgiving. Miller hasn't met Great Grandma B and I know that Grandma Bix is dying to get her mits on him. But she may have some stiff competition.
