Ten months of unbridled joy. Ten months of waking up mornings smiling, then going to sleep at night still smiling. Ten months of always being worried but at the same time excited about the future. Ten months of having a constant source of giddy energy, not to mention a better and definitely cuter model to shoot. Ten months of being super proud, as all these Diaper Diary posts indicate. Ten months of being thankful for this gift of life and this responsibility that will last a lifetime.
Ten months of sunny smiles and heartfelt lambing. Three hundred days with Seven.
Ten months...that seemed to pass by so quick. Like it was only yesterday.
Father to Seven. Prefers to be called "Pop" because Daddy is too sosyal, Papa can mean boyfriend / boy-toy or a ketchup, Tatay is too un-sosyal, and Popsie is just three letters too much. I don't like the cola because it's too sweet, but I esteem coach Gregg Popovich because he gets the job done. So Pop it is.