Dax's Journal

Dax turned eight months old yesterday. To celebrate, we spent the day with my friends Robin and Janice. Of course, there was cake. Dax didn't get any of it...but still, there was cake.

To be honest, the cake wasn't really for Dax. It was for me. See, Robin makes THE BEST EVER cake. And I didn't get cake for my birthday or for my baby shower because I had that oh-so-fun gestational diabetes. So, yeah. Cake. For me. And I more than made up for my birthday, my baby shower, and about four future birthdays. I'm telling you, the girl makes a mean cake.

But enough about me. This is about Dax, after all. Can you believe he is 8 months old? I know that I say that all the time. Or some variation of it, anyway. I'm constantly baffled by how quickly time passes, by how much he's grown, by how much he can change in the span of just one day.

Have you noticed that I haven't used the word "sick" in this entry? I don't want to jinx anything but....I haven't had to use that word in reference to Dax for awhile. In fact, he's the healthiest one in the house right now.

He continues to charm us and anyone in the general vicinity during every waking moment. The other day I was stopped at a stoplight when I noticed movement off to the right. I looked over and found the occupants of a minivan waving and clapping and smiling and laughing. They were playing with Dax.

The most amusing part of this story is that, as they pulled away in their Town and Country minivan, I noticed that they had Iron Maiden and Metallica stickers all over their back window.