Not The Whole Tooth

The bug has her first tooth coming in!  So far just one lower incisor.  It's buddy is being shy.

According to wifey, the tooth is a little shy itself.  Just poking up enough to be noticed, but not so much that you could easily see it.  Probably why I haven't seen any pictures of it yet.

Perhaps the couple bites of egg on the bug's eight-month birthday helped do the trick.  Regardless, she won't be the ruthless, toothless one anymore.

She still favors crawling in reverse and spinning around to get from point B to point A.  But, her rocking motions while on hands and knees could be for building up the necessary momentum to move forward.

Rotisserie Baby

I hope everyone is having a fun and full Mardi Gras.  Laissez les bons temps roulez!

Speaking of rolling...

The bug has a new skill/habit/trick.  Once wifey puts her down for a butt change, she starts barrel rolls.  Changing table, bed, floor, car seat.  No place is without quality of a turning experience.

A well placed WubbaNub can greatly reduce the number of rotations.  Window blinds and/or shadows can distract for a moment.  Still, it's hard enough to start and finish the diaper in one angle, pants are a multi-phase process.

She's also started scooting in reverse.  (the bug, not wifey)  Apparently the objects in front are not as alluring as they appear.

Still no teeth.  But, her hair will need clips soon.

Four And A Half Cats

The bug has certainly upped the mobility, flipping and flopping around like a little play machine.  She is still sitting with assistance of a well placed Boppy, rather than free-styling it.

It seems that when one sits inside of a Boppy, one should stretch oneself backward, almost upside down, and reach for any toys in need a fresh coat of one's slobber. Especially when one is now able to right oneself back up into a sitting position.

Video calling keeps getting better with the bug quickly learning her way around a touch screen.  Specifically, how to hang up on daddy.

However, I think it's time to update on the current cat condition.  You see, grandma already had a cat (we'll refer to him as Angel) and now our three (Panda, Rhino, and Monkey for those who don't remember or haven't read the cat post) and the bearded dragon live at grandma's with wifey and the bug.

Angel has welcomed his cousins warmly and seems to be even relieved to have Rhino to play chase with.  Panda is still working on sharing space with any cats, but that also is working out.

That our three are so tolerated by Angel is interesting because, prior to their arrival, Angel had a neighborhood friend we call Dolores, due to sad looking markings around the eyes.  Dolores does have tags, but never gets close enough to let us look at them.

Angel has firmly put his paw down.  Dolores is no longer allowed to come inside and help his/herself to the food.  Apparently, there are enough mouths to feed.  Angel is fine with Dolores hanging outside, just not inside.  Any more.

As far as the bearded dragon goes - he has a heat lamp - in the middle of the living room.  Cats like that.

Feeding the Bib

Turns out the bug was more than ready for her first bites of rice cereal.  She acted like we had been holding out on her.  I guess, in a way, we were.

I imagine a lot of parents stare unblinkingly at their baby's first bites of "solid food" (what's so solid about some rice flour dissolved in breast milk?) wanting to see some expression of delight, wonderment, confusion, or even disgust.  It's a big first step.  Our camera was rolling.  We planned the event at grandma's.  Typical.

This is what we got:

• The bug watched the spoon come closer and casually took it in her mouth.
• She smacked her tongue a little bit (probably searching desperately for flavor).
• She immediately grabbed at the bowl with a look like "what's in this stuff?" and tipped the whole thing over, including the brand new, no-flip suction cup that, as promised, remained attached to the bowl.
• She took a couple more oh-hum spoonfuls from what was left in the bowl and humored us with chewing motions (a mere formality at this stage).
• Granted, those of us over the age of five months were preoccupied with taking care of the spill.  Still, we weren't feeding her that slowly.  Regardless, after only a few bites of her gruel, the bug found it necessary to take matters into her own hands.  By "matters" I mean spoon.  And by "hands" I mean a two-fisted death grip from which not even photons could escape.

In time, we got the spoon back.  After having had a total of three such feedings thus far, she still isn't feeding herself in spite of her prowess with infant cutlery.

She accepts that she needs to wait on our ability to extract an empty spoon from her mouth, refill it at the proper receptacle, and competently transfer the spoon level, so as not to spill its contents, to her waiting mouth where spilling the contents is an unavoidable (and, as it were, necessary) eventuality.  She accepts this so totally in fact that her latest feeding pose involves leaning with arms extended to the sides, as much as the nylon straps will allow, toward the person holding the spoon and having eyes and mouth held as wide as manageable.

I'd say we're having a first feeding win.

In a related side-note, teething has begun in earnest.  No white tips poking through yet, but they can't be far away.  Stay tuned...

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.

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.