Yep. He's officially getting dangerous.

We lowered Luke's crib mattress on Tuesday, figuring he's getting scary. (One never knows what might happen with a determined six-month-old.) We lowered it just in time. The very next morning Luke sat in his crib; grabbed the poles; yanked himself up; and then stood there in his crib, peering over the rail looking very proud of himself. He still needs Dad's lesson on gravity, because after he pulls himself up and gets tired of just standing there, he lets go and topples right over like a logged tree. Bam. (Grunt.)


More fun in his Jumperoo. You'd think he'd get tired of it. Nope.


Luke is starting to associate his Jumperoo with being sung to. We'll put him in there and then play him some tunes on our guitar.


Craning to see Dad playing guitar and singing him a made-up-on-the-spot song (which Richie is very good at, by the way).


Bethany put Luke up next to her on the counter as she dried dishes, and caught Luke staring at a little girl. Or is he staring at the cats?


Go get 'er, Luke!


Luke's paradise. His corner of toys.


The tides have turned. Luke? With a smile in his car seat? Noooooo.....


Luke is getting less into mashed foods (don't blame him), and getting really obsessed with foods he can pick up and feed himself. Like Cheerios. And arrrowroot cookies.


Luke has been to too many funerals in his itty-bitty life. Yesterday we attended the funeral of Bethany's Aunt Heather, the wife of her dad's oldest brother, Bob. We feel so sad for Uncle Bob, and for the children left behind. As usual, Luke had no clue what was going on and slept on Daddy's legs.


At the funeral, Luke got to meet his one and only great-grandpa for the first time. Wonderful Pop-Pop.


As a girl, Bethany would sit on Pop-Pop's lap and try to pluck out his whiskers. Perhaps this instinct runs in the family?


Pop-Pop's sweet wife, Marguerite, was very concerned about Luke and kept telling Pop-Pop to watch out for his head! Pop-Pop reminded her that he raised three boys. (The youngest of which is Luke's Poppy.) (And he did a mighty-fine job, I might add.)