You are four months old. Well, you have been for a couple of days now. You are a sweet little baby who can almost roll over now. When you wake up, you keep your eyes closed and cry and then when you finally open them, you look into my face and smile as though I am the most wonderful magician who has performed a magnificent trick. I haven't. I'm just me. But you don't know that yet.
I am looking forward to seeing your personality develop and to watching you start scooting around the house. We are moving next week, so you will have a new house to scoot around in soon. You won't even remember this place and it's crickets that have returned to take over my life, and the bees that hump in the kitchen window and the spiders that hang over my bed. We could ask the landlords to call an exterminator, but they haven't fixed the dishwasher in five months, so the liklihood they will fix the problem is quite low.
We will soon be in a house that we won't have to move away from (assuming we pay the mortgage), and I can't wait.