Oh Truman! You are walking boy! Not just walking, but that baby mummy walk where you arms are out in front of you, your shoulders sorta shrugged, no neck in place to hold that bobbling head of yours. Then you either land those hands with a splat against the object of your desire (all house hold electronics or glass surfaces), or fall because those unsure legs just give out, and then leave long strings of drool EVERYWHERE. You are the reason I am in bed at 8:30 now days, because I'm constantly chasing you.
By the way, if you could sleep past 6am, that would be great!
I'm so proud of you baby boy! Soon you'll be saying four-letter words just like your big brother!
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He will definitely grow out his big brother soon! Such a rapid development may we trace! It is astounding!
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