Bug Meet Panda

We have three cats and a bearded dragon for pets.  The cats are much more interested in each other than the bearded dragon and the disinterest is mutual.  Not much phases the bearded dragon except hawks.  He can spot a hawk before it's a dot against the sky and, when he's outside, much time is spent looking for or at hawks.

Each cat could not be more different than the others.  Best as I can explain it, they are panda, woolly rhinoceros, and stinky monkey.

Panda took it upon herself to be the babysitter from day one (maybe even the older sister).  Woolly rhino eventually worked up enough courage to smell the bug, but it hasn't got much more involved than that.  The monkey (in a good mood) will give the bug a prolonged headbutt at times with the loudest of the three purrs, but mostly we just try to keep her butt away from the baby when the monkey comes by.

Cats love the cozy softness of baby gears, but typically are put off by the erratic awkwardness of baby.

Typically.

Panda, as it turns out, is rather comfortable with her ward.  This past week, the bug has become increasingly grabby.  Everything has a texture and that texture must be fully explored.  Panda has a texture.

Much to my (and panda's) delight, the bug has been watching and learning how to pet a cat.  She did really well running her tiny hand down the side of panda, who leaned in for pressure management.  There was a noticeable lift at the end of each stroke, a return to the front of the cat, and delighted squeals and coos all the way back along the side of panda.

The bug likes to grab my chin hairs and occasionally the hair on my head.  Her grip is strong, but she doesn't yank or pull much.  I mention this because I have an educated guess to what panda felt when the bug did finally grab a big handful of fur.  Panda pulled out of the baby clutches gently (losing some tufts of fur), without making a sound, and positioned herself out of reach.

The result would have been very different with rhino (who probably would have ran under the bed before the bug could fully extend her arm) or monkey.  Not surprising though as it was panda who has hung by the bug for almost five months now.

It was a big moment in our understanding of things.  For panda, the bug, and myself.

First All Hallows' Evening

Technically, the Fourth of July was the bug's first holiday (followed uneventfully by Summer Solstice, Labor Day, and Columbus Day), but Independence Day celebrations aren't exactly the place for a two-week old.  I'd like to think of Halloween as the bug's first participation in holiday festivities.

She dressed up like a ladybug with cute faces on her feet (faces that demanded much attention from everyone, costume occupant included) and paraded around town with wifey and dozens of other kids.  Some could argue that Halloween goes right over the head of a four-month old.  At that age, it isn't really about the kid.  It's the parents' excuse to dress the kid(s) in something they wouldn't consciously agree to and be rewarded for it with candy.

Lots and lots of candy.  Somehow lots and lots didn't make it home...  (I had to work 7am - 9pm as per our new schedule.)  Still, I have it on good authority that everything in the Peeps basket is fair game.  Another word for mine.

Which brings me to my point.  Remember when Halloween was considered safe if your parents inspected your loot before you ate it (no suspicious holes, breaks in wrappers/peels, sharp objects, etc.).  Now there are whole neighborhoods off limits.  Trick-or-treating has devolved to a maskless tour through local businesses passing out name brand wrapped candies during the daytime.

I believe that there are areas of the country that celebrate more traditionally.  Just not around me.  Two years ago I had a major win, as it was the only year after graduating college (plenty of years ago) that I both bought candy and had trick-or-treaters.

By the time the bug is old enough to be guided from door to door, fairy wand in one hand and pillowcase in the other, will there be any houses to knock on?  Or will she have to settle for a predetermined kid corral?

I'm thinking Halloween party!  Controlled amount of sugar, plenty of activities for spending energy gained by aforementioned sugar, more than enough adults to keep damage to an allowable minimum, mutually agreed upon scare intensity (or lack thereof, as the case may be), no approaching strangers and asking for handouts, and infinitely more interaction with her peers.

Any parents out there opt for the party instead of wandering the streets?  How did that go?  Was there a mixture of both?

Ahhhbuuuum Eeoieeeee

The bug turns four months today.

Sure.  Yeah.  Not exactly a reason to bust out with a cake.  But, then again, any excuse for a cake is a good excuse.  There doesn't seem to be a whole lot of hype to the fourth month milestone.  (Just the typical photo of baby doing Upward-Facing Dog)  

Perhaps the fourth month changes are just not that easily captured in a photo.  All the motor skills and balancing and dexterity are starting, but not quite there.  It's a fun stage.  Exciting for both parent and child as we feed off each other's joy that "Ooo.  That was two seconds of sitting up by yourself.  If you hadn't looked over at the cat so fast, you might have stayed up longer." or "Yay!  You just grabbed the toy with both hands and put it right in your mouth (I can already see where today's encouragement becomes tomorrow's bane)." Especially seeing the bug light up when she realizes she's more capable makes the fourth month a big step in my eyes.

I've seen her frustrated at her limitations for quite a while now.  Her noticing when she's not as limited is new.  She'll try something (grab for a toy, try to right herself before toppling over, laugh while exhaling...) and it will work out the way she intended it to (for the most part).  That's when her eyes get wide and her jaw drops.  I crack up.  She smiles real big and does the four-limb shimmy.

One big, important development - talking.  Not really talking, per se.  It's more of an incessant rambling of vowels with the occasional soft consonant thrown in to keep the listener on his/her toes.  Kinda like the news. Where it gets difficult is when she wakes up for a bottle around three in the morning and gets all chatty.

I sit her in front of me (on the Boppy, on my lap, on the glider rocker) and listen while she regales me with what is clearly a rather amusing account of something.  I listen politely, playing the dumb foreigner by smiling, nodding, and generally pretending like I'm following along when, in fact, I'm waiting for her to run out of steam.  The other night, after a particularly edge-of-your-seat dramedy played for thirty minutes, I swear I heard her say, "Now let me tell you about my second minute of life."

If you've ever rented a Czechoslovakian comedy without subtitles by mistake, you have a pretty good idea of what I'm working with.  Not that I mind, say, around three in the afternoon.  For that matter, if I'm not trying to get back to sleep, I'll join in and we'll have long father-daughter talks using sounds that would make the Teletubbies scratch their heads.

It does beg the question.  How long can one engage in baby babble without it compromising the integrity of one's novel writing?  Considering I'm going for the commercial voice and eschewing the literary, I'll take my chances.  Wouldn't want to miss out on any of the bug's stories.