Gosh, but doesn't he look like a little boy here? Angela and I keep marveling at how less like a baby he looks and how more like a little guy he's becoming. Of course, this first attempt at both pants and shoes helps a bit, not that he can walk quite yet or anything. But the attempts at crawling are progressing: he can now both lift his head up with his hands and lift his butt up with his feet. All he has to figure out is how to do that at the same time. And then I should probably teach him how to shave and all.
Believe me, I don't want him to walk quite yet. Because rather than that being a godsend because he can totter after me, I know quite well that this will only mean that I will have to run after him -- and that once I get him, I'll still have to carry him. (My father is undoubtedly cackling in revenge now, since I faked being asleep in the car so that he would carry me out until I was almost 12.)