He’s doing a lot of Bronx cheers these days. Burbling saliva out of his mouth. Actually, lots of saliva from his mouth at all times. It’s pretty dangerous to play the airplane game (you know, making him fly while you lie on your back underneath him), because the chances of getting a long trail of drool on your face are high.
His hand-eye coordination is getting better. He can grab stuff and smash it into his mouth. Each time he does it, he makes a “That tastes terrible!” grimace and spits it out. I watched him stuff a wool hat into his mouth eight times in rapid succession, each time frowning and spitting it out. He’s like that goldfish, for whom the little plastic castle is a surprise every time. (Yeah I went through an Ani Difranco phase in college. You’re shocked I’m sure.)
He’s stopped crying for no reason. Which is nice. But now he’s started crying just because he’s bored, or wants a change of scenery, or wants something new to play with. That part can be annoying, but at least you can see his little personality starting to emerge from the fog of tummy troubs, sleepiness, and hunger and muddled the first few months.
He laughs more and more each day. He smiles more and more. His curiosity seems to double and triple every week. In short, he's the best baby in existence.
I love this post. you definitely know how to talk story. (ask Hannah if you're uncertain about the pidgin)
ReplyDeleteand, of course, he is the best baby in existence.