Little rolling fiend...

Dear Nicky,

Your speech therapist must be in love with you the way she was raving about you this morning. How much bigger you are, how much taller, how strong you are. She fed you some mush from a spoon and from a little blue cup, and you ate equally well from both. It's still very new to you, of course, but you're clearly going to be very effective at it. You napped a little bit, had some before-noon tummy time, and flipped over a couple times, napped a little more. Then we went out after your three o'clock feeding. You were again admired by total strangers. It was nice out this afternoon, warm and breezy, and you napped some more. We came home and I gave you some palate work and an extra three ounces of formula, because I didn't think you got enough today and could use the extra hydration, too. Then I put you down for some more tummy time and you became a rolling fiend. You must have flipped over eight times or more. Literally, every time I turned around you went from stomach to back. Amazing.

Love,
Dad