Oh! This Week is Long

Him: Dadadadadadadadadada!
Me: Can you say “Mama?” … Ma-ma…
Him: Blahblahblahblahblah!
Me: Ma-ma…Ma….ma
Him: RARARARARARARARARARA!
Me: You know what? Fine. Be that way.
Him: BlahBLAHBLAHBLAH.

The baby has discovered his diaphragm. No more wussy, half-baked cries that don’t get anyone’s attention. Last week he heard Beethoven’s 9th symphony and was stunned into silence by the Very Low Bass bit at the end. Now I know why. He was figuring out how to BELLOW.

He prefers to bellow when we are outside or when it is bedtime. He will also bellow when I am replacing his diaper. He will also bellow when he cannot reach the catt or the fireplace or the coffee cup or the lime or the coconut or the only remaining piece of skin on my neck that he has not yet squeezed blue with his fat, yet accurate fingers. Note to self: gain neck fat so baby stops pinching tendons.

Until now I have not availed myself of the earplugs that Saint Aardvark often uses when putting the baby to bed. That is about to change.

Also, today at the Most Depressing Mall in the Universe, I heard what sounded like Beyonce singing a very inclusive holiday song. It went something like, “Happy Kwaaaaanzaaaaa….happy hanukkah…..merry christmassssss…” and then, inexplicably, she asked, “You got my back?” and some other women replied, “I got your back!” and I left the store laughing out loud and it made everything, even the sad mall Santa who was sweeping out his castle and waiting for visitors, seem just a little more OK.