Daley Ponderings

24 pounds, 9 ounces.  30 inches tall. He didn't cry a single whimper for his shot or any of the blood drawing for his hemoglobin and lead tests.  What a brave, tough guy!

He's added water (flicking his ear with his fingers - an unfortunate way to say it, but that's what he means), finished (kind of waving with both hands, or pointing down with one finger, since finished and get down from the chair are rather the same for him right now), and milk (very close to correct) to his signing vocabulary.  His more sign is very good now. 

And he says "Mama" for me!  I, as a prejudiced mother, couldn't confirm this yet, but Jon (a prejudiced father, it's true) saw him look up at me from across a room, say, "Mama," and crawl to me.

(If you want a purely prejudiced mommy story, we were playing a game where it seemed to me that he was saying "Ma-ma" for me, "Da-da" for Jon, and "Na-na" for Jonathan.  He didn't take my bait to say "Noah.")