Baby Bill is 4 weeks old today. I mean Will. Or William. Or Little Fatty.
We still don't have a stand-out choice of name for him, but he doesn't seem to mind being called "that baby" or "the small one." He is also losing all of his hair, but that doesn't seem to faze him either.
We still don't have a stand-out choice of name for him, but he doesn't seem to mind being called "that baby" or "the small one." He is also losing all of his hair, but that doesn't seem to faze him either.
For the most part, he just hangs out and spends his time pooping or eating or sleeping, as all good babies should. If he's crying, it means that either a.) he's hungry or b.) Colin is antagonizing him.
He's quite popular around here, so I often bribe the older kids with the opportunity to hold him. "If you pick up the blocks without complaining, you can hold your baby brother!"
(Sorry, Bill. I can justify this because you won't remember any of the trauma of Colin holding you when you're older.)
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