The Lighter Side of Violence

I probably shouldn't laugh when the bug repeatedly slams a toy either into a flat (and remarkably noisy) surface or against another toy.  But it's just too cute.

Partly because of the flinching eyes, instinctively closing in case pieces fly off in all directions.  Partly because seeing such unintended violence burst out of the sweetest looking baby girl embodies a kind of dichotomy that caters to my darker sense of humor.  Partly because such actions are often preceded, accompanied, and/or followed by top-of-the-lungs sustained vowel sounds not entirely dissimilar to singing.

If by "singing" you can include throat-popping moans a la Peter Boyle in Young Frankenstein.

I worry that I'm encouraging violent behavior by laughing - sending mixed signals and all that.  But, on the flip side, isn't this an important developmental stage?  We need to encourage her to explore her capabilities.  As long as she doesn't start in on the cats.

I've already started thinking of appropriately encouraging Christmas gifts:

• hammer
• drum
• piano
• those weighted bottom inflatable rocking things
• XBox 360 controller

So Cute I Can't Stand It

The bug turns five months old this week.  It's about the time in her life when mom and dad are no longer scouring through Dr. Sears to learn what milestones to anticipate.

She can roll over.  She can remain in a sitting position and often tries to sit up on her own.  She explores different textures with groping fingers, grabs approved materials in her tiny-but-mighty clutches, and checks out her world via leaking mouth.  She pivots around when playing on her belly.

But, she loves to stand (with a hand or two holding her for stability).  As I imagine it is with most parents, seeing the bug on two feet looking just like a little person is hilariously adorable.

Speaking of laughter... laughing bouts have taken a turn toward banshee.  She's definitely testing those pipes out and seeing what they're capable of.  It's a good thing it's happy sounds coming out.

We bought some rice cereal to have at the ready (and face shields).  The bug's doctor thinks she might be up for it, if not demanding, in the next couple of weeks (I smell a future blog post) and schooled us on the signs to look for.

Anyone have some good first food advice?  Anecdotes?  Warnings?

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.

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.

Ring Duck For Service

Swaddles have never been much of a challenge for the bug.  We've tried a few recommended baby origami patterns and the Swaddle Me with death-grip-louder-than-it-needs-to-be velcro.  Doesn't matter much.  She can free her arms in her sleep...  With one arm tied behind her back...

The swaddling has been critical and we couldn't have done without it.  She doesn't always remember how to fall asleep and often, when she does, that crazy startle reflex can put a quick end to some hard won nappage.  Yet, swaddling isn't forever, right?  Don't misunderstand.  She's a great sleeper.  (Except when she's not.)

I try to encourage the bug to develop a better hand-eye coordination (Are they making video games for babies yet?) and this seems to be increasing her options for some rather creative swaddle twisting.  A few times I've had to unlock the baby to feed and/or change her.  At least she laughs about it.  (She's not always pleasant to be around when she's impatient.)

This last week a new thing has started.  The sound of a rattle when she should be swaddled.  (We have wrist rattles at the ready on the sides of her bassinet.)  I walk up to her and who knows how long she's been awake or what came first: the free arm, or the wakefulness.  Then I watch her have a grand ol' time smacking that duck-faced wrist rattle like a speed bag, calling out De La Hoya.

We're not quite at the point yet where she can get her quality sleep without the swaddle.  Yet, we're passed the point where it's all that effective.  I don't think there is a hard and fast rule for when to discontinue swaddle use because the answers I've seen have all been vague.  "When it's no longer working."  Define working.  "When she can get out of it."  (Uhhhhh...)

Does anyone have any clarity out there?  If she's gettin' all million-dollar-baby on us, do we just have her figure out for herself how to be still enough to fall asleep and stay asleep?  Or are her calisthenics going to eat into her beauty sleep?  What do you think?