33 Weeks

Arlo is 33 weeks and 2 days old, and he's looking more like a toddler every day.



He's in love with the maracas Danny found when he was cleaning the basement.

You wouldn't believe how well he's crawling now—and he can't quite do it alone yet, but he's been trying to use furniture to pull himself into a standing position. Where is my tiny baby??

That face gives me butterflies.

He also sprouted two top teeth about (okay, exactly) 4 days ago. Again, where is my tiny baby?? I tried to do a top-toof photo shoot, but nobody was cooperating. I did end up with these two gems, though:

No modestly.

Did you notice I cut Arlo's bangs? He looked so much cuter with them hanging in his face, but I know that had to be annoying as hell. Oh, and yes, they're as jacked up and crooked as they appear.

32 Weeks

Arlo is 32 weeks and 1 day old, and he's a crawling machine. Life has become much more hectic (but exciting!) now that he's mobile. I love watching that fat little rump crawl around, but gone are the days of plunking Arlo on the living room floor while I load the dishwasher. If I do this now, he's gnawing on either a dog toy or a pile of cords before I've even left the room.  

 

Go, Arlo, go!

It was a pretty uneventful week, I suppose. It's officially cold outside (snow and the whole shebang), so we prefer to stay in. This gives us lots of opportunities to play dress-up. Here's Arlo as a skater boy:

I think you can see his 1/4 Filipino-ness shining through here.

 

I used to hate putting hats on him because they covered up his pretty hair, but I discovered that his hair is so long now that it pokes out all around the hat—so there's no mistaking him for a bald baby (not that there's anything wrong with that).

 

But he is so not bald.

 

Piles and piles of hair on that head.

 

We did venture out a few times, though—did a little shopping and went to a first birthday party. It seems Arlo is getting a little leery of strangers and doesn't automatically flash everybody his giant grins anymore. Instead, he takes a few minutes to warm up to people he doesn't know well. This certainly doesn't deter people from passing him around, though. I've said it before, and I'll probably say it a million more times, but I am so proud to be his mama.

 

I don't have a picture to represent this, but for the past couple of weeks, Arlo's been raising his arms above his head when he wants to be picked up. He'll be jumping in his jumperoo, and I'll walk by, and he'll throw his arms in the air—telling me he wants me to get him out of that thing and hold him. I've obviously known all along that he needs me, but now, he's able to communicate this sentiment, and it kills me every time. I am so crazy for this kid.



My boy.

And here's my favorite photo of the week:
 

He loves when Daddy plays guitar.

31 Weeks

Arlo is 31 weeks and 2 days old, and while I feel like I have a lot to say about this past week, I'm going to keep this short because my computer is still jacked, and I can't even tell you how much I hate blogging on my Kindle.
Most importantly, as of yesterday, we officially have a little crawler on our hands. He's not ready to win any races, and he still randomly collapses here and there, but he can do it, and it might be the cutest thing in the world. He looks too tiny to be crawling around like that!

This is supposed to serve as documentation that Arlo's crawling, but all it really proves is that we need to vacuum.

Sunday, we went to Danny's work for a clam bake, and we took advantage of a couple photo ops. First, Danny put us in jail:

Behind bars with my mini-me.

Then, Arlo took the cruiser for a spin:

 

Not really. Duh.

And then, both my handsomes posed in the cruiser:

How would ya like to get pulled over by these two? Yes, please.

 

Halloween happened, too. The weather was total crap (Not "carp," Kindle! Leave me alone!), which was a huge bummer because I had all kinds of outdoor photo ideas planned that couldn't happen. We did brave the weather for 10 minutes and have our friend Frank come over for a super-fast photo shoot. I shouldn't even have to tell you that my fox didn't cooperate. He only smiles for cell phone photos. Here's the best we could do, considering the wind and rain and the grumpy boy (pretend they're all centered):

 



He was in a much better mood for our earlier cell phone photo shoot.

I also had about a thousand photos of Arlo and Scooter to share with you, but I'm one weird formatting issue or autocorrect away from slamming my Kindle against the wall, so maybe I'll share those this weekend. I also want to show you a video of Arlo riding the Roomba, but for now, here he is in a crate: