Liam is growing again. We can't seem to keep both of our boys fed. "I hungee" is a frequent chorus from our tiny sir. He doesn't lack for food, let me tell you. But he is growing. He's broken the 30 lb mark and then some. But he's still on the shorter side. (Of course, next to Xander's 90th percentile or more in height all the way through, this is hardly surprising.)
And he's talking so much now! We still need to attend speech classes: and yes, that is we, since they teach the parent and child. But his desires, needs and even dislikes are well known. I full sentences now. "Mommy, I want up." "More milk, please." and this morning, "I beat you upstairs!" We can no longer call him Silent Sam.
Occasionally though, we get a reprieve from those moments where we believe he has grown up and is no longer our tiny baby. Last night, we had one of those. Ray was reading to our boys and didn't even get through the first story when he looked over to see that Liam had crashed. Hard. I guess this is what we get for going for a haircut instead of having a nap.