Getting to San Diego this time meant flying on a plane and you were a smiling little angel. You conked right out after take off which caused passengers on their way to the restroom to stop and oohhh over your cherubic face. The flight back was not quite as pleasant but it wasn't terrible. You were a little fussy but it could it have been a whole lot worse.
While we were out in California, we saw your birth father and your birth mother. The meeting with your birth father didn't go quite as well as when he came out to Utah but you were perfectly happy. Considering that the meeting came at the end of an extremely long day, involving three hours of traffic just to go 30 miles, that was pretty impressive. The next day we saw your birth mother, who you hadn't seen since you were two days old. You were happy and content that day, too and I took the sweetest picture of you asleep on her shoulder.
You haven't cut any teeth yet but, what with all the gnawing and tenderizing you've been doing on my fingers, I think they are on their way. I haven't seen too many smiles that are bigger than yours and I'm enjoying these last few moments of your toothless grin.
I love you. I love you. I love you. Even crawling all over the place and riding the dog and getting into absolutely everything. I love you. Happy seven months, dear one.