Feets, don't fail me now.

Kameron came to town this weekend. First time for The Lovely to watch him overnight (2 nights, actually), and she needed my help with lifting and maneuvering and such.

Normally, I am not so keen on babies. Holding babies, anyway. They seem so ... fragile or something, and when I have a baby in my arms, it is as if I am afraid to move.

But Kameron is different. He is 4 months old today, and he is a chunk. Stout. Not fat, or even chubby, really, just solid. With a big round head/face that reminds me of Charlie Brown (early Charlie Brown, when his face was more oval). And not much hair, just like Chuck.

Holding Kameron, I am not afraid to move. Hoist him up on my shoulder and I am good to go.

And, as it turns out, he likes me.

How do I know?

For starters, he burped the most awesome burps after I fed him. And all I had to do was set/sit him on my lap and lean him forward just a tad and tap on his back a few times, and, "Baaaa-aaaawp!"

Prompting The Lovely to ask, "Was that Kameron, or you??!"

: )

And then, not long after one of his countless feedings (every 3 hours, ON the hour), he wrapped the fingers of his right hand around my right index finger, leaving about an inch of the tip, and crammed my fingertip into his mouth and started sucking. Nearly choked himself, even!

The 2nd night he was here, after I had fed and burped him, he acted a little fussy so I laid him on the couch between us. He kept looking up and back to see me, and I started rubbing his mouth with my fingertip, and before long, he was letting me rub his upper gum. And all the while he was cooing and smiling and loving it.

"He's teething," she told me.

"We're bonding," I told her.