Giggie.

Another month, another nickname. This time, Evan named himself. If you want to count this as his first word, feel free. We seem to think he intentionally says it while referring to himself, or his brother, or just to make us laugh.

Meet our little Giggie. It suits him, right?

He's now nine months old. We celebrated this milestone at the beach. And, I have to say that this is one of my very favorite baby ages.

(However, if you asked me a few months ago, I would have said six months is my favorite. Before that, newborn. Oh, and I love 18 months. Two is great too. And almost three, I'm loving that as well.)

Evan's done a tremendous amount of growing and changing in the last month. He can easily cruise his way any where he wants to go. He pulls himself up on the couch, his tall toys, the kitchen chairs, my legs - and pretty much any where else he can get a good grip - without much effort. He's even started cruising around the house while pushing Lane's little black chair, much like a walker.

He's very vocal and loves to listen to music. At the sound of music coming from the radio, or the TV, or a toy, or even his brother singing, he'll begin to do his little Evan dance, which is a little bounce up and down while his chunky body moves to the beat.

Speaking of chunky, the boy continues to grow. I don't really know what he hasn't tasted at this point. Rotisserie chicken and cheddar cheese are his two new favorite foods, and he eats this a few times a week. I don't have an exact number to put to pounds, but I'm going to say the babe is pushing 21 plus pounds.

He's still madly in love with this brother and follows him most everywhere. Lane's getting a little better about sharing with Evan. Moving Evan's room downstairs has helped a lot - and putting in place a new rule: all toys in Lane's room can only be played with by Lane; all toys in Evan's room can only be played with by Evan. Toys anywhere else are fair game. Lane follows the rule to a T - when the toys are in his room. Whatever toys are in Evan's room are still fairgame, in Lane's book.

With the cooler weather, we've been spending a lot of time outside. Evan enjoys it just as much as Lane. He's yet to make a friend his own age but doesn't seem to mind. He enjoys all the attention Lane's little girlfriends shower on him and loves hanging around with the guys. Growing a little bigger and having a little more control of his own body has given him the ability to gently (and under supervision) wrestle with the boys and he loves it.

He also enjoys playing a little game Papa and Lane named kerdunk. Sure, the playing of kerdunk, which is basically sitting on mama and papa's bed and getting pushed down on your back by papa or big brother, has started a little earlier than it did with Lane. However, that seems to be the pattern with our second child.

Which brings me to a part of growing up that makes me teary eyed. Weaning. I've approached nursing with each one of my babe's with an open mind. If it works then I do it. It's worked with both of my boys. So, we nurse. I prefer to exclusively breast feed for the first six months and then introduce formula when needed.

I don't like to set an end date. I haven't needed to. I believe my children will let me know when they are done. Lane decided he was done just one week before his first birthday. I knew the end was near because our nursing sessions began to dwindle. And the same has happened with Evan. We slowly began eliminating, at his request, the amount of times we nurse a day. I believe we will have wrapped up this part of our time together in the next few days. I'll let him decide.

He's growing up - my little babe.

His little hands are getting bigger. Two new teeth are begining to show up and fill in that gap on his top gums. His feet require shoes when outside playing. His belly fits nicely in a size 18 month shirt.

However, he's still sporting that beautiful bald baby head.