Is there ever a wrong time to go visit your grandchild? If so, I please don't enlighten me. Especially when Halloween is in the air and every holiday is a first.
Luckily for me, last week I was able to drop everything (including work for a few days) and fly out to Texas to see my sweet daughter and Little Boo.
He took this one just for me, because I call him Little Boo.
We were simpatico, Boo and I. Because we Skype on the computer a few times a week, he remembered me when I first saw him and he gave me that little melt-your-heart smile. And never worried when I reached for him (read: snatched him out of his mother's arms!) for a cuddle.
Or to share a little snack. (Sorry, a little macro setting problem in this shot. But still...)
[On a side note: Is it wrong of me to feel some small grandma-happiness that when strange women koochie-cooed him and told him what a cutie he was, he looked to me when he burst into stranger-danger tears? Oh, my gosh. It was so adorable.]
He waited until I came for his first roll-over. Which was really, really sweet of him, considering it's hard to intersect those big moments from 1500 miles away.
Baby hugs and kisses. Oh, my.
Sometimes, I even let him sleep.
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