eight is great

my sweet boy is eight months old.  james is sitting up, crawling, and feeding himself watermelon like a big kid.  he's starting to babble, and i swear i heard "mama" today.

i can hardly stand it.

admitedly, i've been coaching him.  "say 'mama!  ma-ma-ma-ma.'"

dylan hears this and says, "noooo!  call her 'momm-mee'  your name is mommy!"

is it just me, or is there something romantic about mama?  mommy is the frazzled, unwashed woman with spit-up in her hair, but mama reads books and rolls cookie dough and lets you dig in the garden.

no, just me?

i'm holding out for mama this time around, but it's not looking promising.

james laughs loudly and often, and the sound of both kids playing together makes hearts light.  baby laughter is one of the best sounds in all the world.

it's strange to think that nine months ago i was still pregnant.  james grew within me longer than he's lived and breathed here with us.

sweet baby james, your eight short months have blessed us with joy immeasurable.  you are a delight and a treasure.

Psalm 126--A song of ascents.   

1 When the LORD brought back the captives to Zion,
       we were like men who dreamed.

 2 Our mouths were filled with laughter,
       our tongues with songs of joy.
       Then it was said among the nations,
       "The LORD has done great things for them."

 3 The LORD has done great things for us,
       and we are filled with joy.

 4 Restore our fortunes, O LORD,
       like streams in the Negev.

 5 Those who sow in tears
       will reap with songs of joy.

 6 He who goes out weeping,
       carrying seed to sow,
       will return with songs of joy,
       carrying sheaves with him.

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