He's walking really well. Running, actually. He will chase anything that remotely looks like a ball.
He still sucks three fingers, palm up. How that is comfortable, I do not know.
He's currently in the twenty-fifth percentile for height and the ninetieth for weight. This means our little boy is rotund. He's a pudge and we love it. His pj's don't connect over that beautifully huge belly. It's so cute.
It also means he has a double chin. We love that, too.
This kid knows how to eat! And he's comfortable in his masculinity, so he doesn't mind using a pink bib. See? Look at that face. I am boy! Here me ROAR! Just don't make me use the pink sippy cup.
Jack and his belly like to help Ella make goggles for daddy out of pipe cleaners.
Jack and his double chin like to play in the snow.
So there you have it. Our scrawny, terrifyingly small boy who was so late to walk and talk. Not so small, now, eh?
It goes without saying, yet must be said, that we thank our Heavenly Father for allowing our little one to grow into the solidly built, stocky, ball-and-car-loving manchild that he is today.