A Matter of Scale.

Everything is scaled down in Jackson's world. He's got tiny little socks for his tiny little feet. His fingers and toes are just like big people's fingers and toes, only smaller. He's got small chairs and small blankets, tiny ball caps and tiny clothes. It's all stuff just like the rest of us have except it's a smaller version. One thing does not conform to this principal. One thing is alarmingly not scaled down.

His Farts!


Now I know it's a little crass to discuss flatulence, but I can't ignore it anymore. It amazes me daily that such a litlle guy can produce sounds that could be easily mistaken for those of a grown man. If he were a she it would be quite embarrassing. He's gassy but we love him like a son.

In other news. Jackson rolled over twice from front to back with no assitance. He rolls back to front at will. Despite the fact that once on his belly he realizes he doesn't like being on his belly. After he starts fussing about it, Betsy or I will flip him back over and within seconds, he's right back on his belly fussing. He just enjoys it so much, it's worth the consequences.

This past weekend, we took Jackson to Grandpa and Grandma M's river house on the Suwannee. We had a very nice and relaxing time.
Here's Jackson with Grandpa.


And here he is flying through the air.


And here he is in his super cool new "Baby Fire Chief" hat.


Bye Bye for now.