He can hold up his milk bottle several seconds at a go. The cross eyed stare while he does it is a bonus.
His hair is dropping out in clumps, giving him the air of a mangy dog. Or do I mean that he looks like he’s been attacked by a mangy dog?
He is compelled by some inner force to roll over whenever he is placed on his back, which simultaneously satisfies his compulsive rolling itch and annoys him greatly.
He smirks while listening to adults converse among themselves.
He is more prone to laughing fits in the evening.
His personality is settling down. If I had to call it, I would put him down as an INFP.
Just kidding. But if I had to sum him up in two alliterative words, they would be the Genial Giant. I would never, NEVER have guessed that my intense, nervous little newborn would evolve into this sweet, easy-going guy.