Jude is four and a half months now, cruising precariously towards five. He’s got loads of personality (I always forget how quickly that kicks in!), loves to laugh, and has already learned that big brother Jack is one heck of a good time.
He’s also kind of a moose, to the tune of 25 pounds. Seriously.
We’ve had big babies before, but Jude? Jude makes them look like posers. Whether it’s outgrowing most of his diapers (including a beautiful stash of wool), fitting into 2T clothes, or riding in the stroller when Momma’s babywearing bliss wears thin, Jude is a big baby.
He’s also one of the happiest babies we’ve ever had. This guy loves to give loud squeals of appreciation, anticipate the peek-a-boo, and catch your eye with a big grin. He adores the antics of his siblings, playing on the floor, and watching the dog meander past. And let’s not forget the belly tickles. He’s a big fan.
Oddly enough, the one thing that got me when Jude was born was the jump from five sons to six. I have no idea why, but the addition of one made the number seem somehow bigger, as if now I had a lot of sons. Call me crazy.
We’re enjoying every day with this sixth boy, this ninth child. A year ago, though he was being knit together, we had no idea he was on his way. Now we can’t imagine life without him. Funny how families work that way. Funny… and awesome.