Sweet Baby – Week 22 and 23 Because I am a Slacker

How is it that you’re sitting up now? Hi? One day you’re not sitting up, the next day you are?

Thursday last you were as resistant to sitting up as ever – kneebending BAD, straightlegs GOOD – and Friday last we stuck you in the stroller in the mall and you sat there. Holding on to your teddy bear, sucking on your fist, sitting. Talking to passers-by and making them coo at you and ask you questions no one can answer, like, “Where did you get those beautiful big blue eyes?” And when I answer, “They’re glass – I bought them on ebay!” people don’t even notice, they just keep staring at you, trying to figure out a way to make you smile again because you’re really, awfully cute.

Another hat by Eastern Grandma. Sweater by Western Grandma.

And the rolling? Every time I put you on the floor, you roll. Last week I put you on the floor and took your diaper off so you could taste your toes and I went into the kitchen and when I came back you were on your tummy. Trying to swim towards the fireplace. Crap! Childproofing!

It’s so frustrating for you. You get rolled over and you think that will solve all your problems. Somehow, the catt will be easier to grab, the television will be closer, the dangly/bobbly/rustly things will all be nearer to your grubby fingers. But this is not the case. You can’t crawl yet. Yet. So you flip over and then you’re all: Hey, I’m on my front but NOTHING IS HAPPENING. Yo. Make something happen, lady.

Sorry. I’m too tired to jig for you, son. You’re just going to have to figure out how to crawl.

We spent the week at your grandparents’ house, where you licked everything. Either you’ve just discovered your tongue, your tastebuds have finally matured or perhaps you have just discovered your lazy side because now instead of grabbing things and putting them in your mouth, (a skill you only just mastered) you now prefer to stick your tongue out and lean hopefully towards things you wish to chew on. When those things fail to insert themselves in your mouth for inspection you either cry the fakest cry I’ve ever heard or keep leaning until you are 1. on the floor or 2. bent double.

Your focus on what you want reminds me of something my driving instructor said, way back when. Look off into the distance and focus on where you’re going, he said, lead yourself with your eyes and your hands will automatically adjust the steering so you get there. It works for licking, too.

You’ve had your Jumper with a Bumper for 2 weeks now. I have been taking several showers a day to make up for lost time. In those 2 weeks you have figured out how to jump higher, how to Riverdance and recently, how to stop moving altogether to enable better licking of the straps that suspend you.

I attempted to document these skills but all 47 pictures ended up looking like this:

You chose your own first book at a bookstore this week: Curious George. I tried to read it to you last night but you just kept bumping up and down on my lap, tongue sticking out, trying to get close enough to lick it. You’re right. Sometimes, books are for licking. And this one came from a used bookstore. I bet it tastes fantastic.

With the addition to your wardrobe of this loaned t-shirt, you are now officially the trendiest of our entire family. Several generations of our family, in fact.

Because you don’t know what you got till it’s gone, I didn’t realize how much of a routine we had until this week when it got blown to hell. We had a good time in the next suburb over, hanging out and eating food. Your grandparents were delighted to spend as much time with you as they did. I was delighted to shower under real water pressure. (Yes, it’s all about the showers. Someday you will understand.) But this morning, when your dad was home and you woke up smiling and I got to sleep in – just a little; not so much that I get spoiled – it was so good. Our little family, our own home-sweet-home.