Just when I thought your crawling couldn’t get any cuter you sprouted teeth and learned to sit up and clap. My favorite thus far was when you intentionally tipped over the cat food and then gave yourself a round of applause for your dexterity and for making it past mom and getting all the way to the food dish. It’s like the precursor to video games – tip the cat food without getting caught.
If I could keep you here, crawling around with socks in your mouth and clapping so intently as you stare at us (you know it’s an attention getter), I would do it for at least three more months. It’s such a precious stage. And you do have a sock radar. You climbed a large pile of clean clothes last night and, without missing a beat, came down the other side with your sock in your mouth. On the other hand, it’s rather a nasty shock when it’s my sock you’ve been gnawing on.
Speaking of gnawing, those long awaited teeth have finally moved in just a few weeks back. All of that drooling accomplished something, I guess, and you have both of your bottom front teeth. You are still in the phase where you feel them over and over with your tongue with a puzzled expression on your face but have no problem nipping me with your little mouth razors. Baby teeth are sharp! And babies with teeth have a wicked sense of humor!
You may have teeth, but the only “foods” you have been halfway interested in are paper and amoxicillin. You developed an ear infection last week and sound like Darth Vader in miniature. Then, yesterday, all three of your siblings were diagnosed with strep, so we have antibiotic parties twice a day where I plunk four containers on the counter and serve up drinks. Amoxicillin on ice! And you like the stuff! But you won’t eat real food and you no longer take a bottle at day care, which means unless I come by to nurse you don’t eat. Which leaves me and your day care provider in a bad position when I have clinicals from 6:30 to 3:15. This is just a rough semester, and you getting sick and not eating are just icing on the cake of difficulty.
You are really into moving around and cause and effect these days. You like to go from the cat dish, pull a straw out of the dishwasher, and then pull the dish towel off and crawl away with it clamped in your mouth. You like anything you can aggressively open and shut or pull back and forth, and you really like to crawl head down in your car seat. Your most epic cause and effect involved you pulling my computer off the table via the computer cord. Fortunately the computer did not land on your head and still works (though the edge is now broken). You are pretty equal opportunity about finding something to do in any room of the house, but some choices, say, the toilet brush in the bathroom, are more dicey than others. You also like to push to standing whenever possible, which makes me think that you are going to think about exploring alternative means of transportation in the near future. That just makes me sad.
Your sleep seems to be doing pretty well. Often you will sleep from 8 to 6:30, but you always make sure that one of your siblings has scheduled a bad dream or empty water bottler to ensure that I do not, in fact, sleep completely through the night. You are doing great in the crib in Liliana’s room and I am still quasi swaddling you, by swaddling your arms and then flipping the blanket between your legs. You are 19 pounds of pure baby muscle, so swaddling hardly contains you, but I feel like it helps your sleep a little. Maybe.
It has been a delight watching you interact with yourself in the mirror. You make eye contact and then head butt your reflection. I’m not sure why you think you’re a baby battering ram, but you do. Whenever you’re upset, you come and do the same thing to my ankles, like you’re trying to beat me into picking you up.
And you do get picked up a lot, so maybe it works. When you are really upset you settle, crying, into a full downward dog with your head on the floor and your bottom straight up in the air. I don’t know where you learned this, because I don’t do yoga.
You chase Poseidon around now, and he looks like he lives in a permanent state of feline discomfort. I think it’s hilarious. Sometimes, though, he will snuggle against your head while you nurse, so I like to think that he secretly thinks you’re okay.
Best of all, I’m pretty sure you head butted my ankles and said, “mama” yesterday. You are just that adorable and smart.