The Little Man, Month 4

Wow, I can't believe it's already been 4 months.

Little Man, you are just an explosion of new skills and love.

• Holy moley you can keep yourself upright. You're still mostly doing what your dad and I lovingly call the "Sitting Gorilla Pose," but you're sitting straighter every day.
• You're learning new things all the time: like if you kick the giraffe on your play gym the music will start playing and the butterflies move.
• You also have learned that if you kick The Mama in the middle of the night she will wake up and feed you. Along the same lines, it's hilarious to watch you playing with your dad and he pretends to fall asleep with you sitting on his tummy. You lean forward, get an anticipatory smile on your face and coo quietly at him. And then you laugh and laugh when he "startles" awake.
• You are responding to your name(s)! I know you have a lot of nicknames, but you seem to recognize most of them and you'll turn your head to say "what's up?"
• Tummies are yummy, and you love it when I nom on yours.
• You're not liking going to sleep these days, though. I think you're just so excited by all of the new things you're noticing that you don't want it to stop. And you're noticing e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g. these days: the design on your play gym, my coffee cup, the pictures in books, your toys, my computer...and everything has to go into your mouth.
• You can push yourself all the way up on your arms - elbows straight, in sort of the "Cobra Pose." Sometimes you fiddle with your legs and I swear you are thisclose to getting on your hands and knees.
• Your dad showed me a new trick you have. He puts your pacifier in his mouth, you reach up, grab it, turn it, and then put it in your own mouth. It's rare that you get the right part in your mouth on the first try...but I'm still impressed!
• Surefire way to get you to smile (if not laugh) no matter what mood you are in? Pick you up to see the baby in the mirror. I'm not sure whether what you were doing the other day was giving him kisses or trying to chew on him, but it was really funny to watch you mouthing the mirror.
• I love how you sing along with us now, or with the music. Lately we've been putting you down for naps listening to Jesus Christ Superstar, and it's really fun to hear you coo along. Or when your dad and I are singing a song to you and you join in. Ah, it warms my heart.
• And you are definitely a musical baby. You get a kick out of playing notes on the piano (and then trying to chew the piano) or plucking strings on dad's guitar or my ukulele.
• Yesterday at the pool one of the other swimmers commented on how "serious" you are. And it's true. You don't just give away your joy and love to anyone at any time. You are an appraising baby - everything and everyone needs to pass inspection. Never mind that so far EVERYone has passed inspection with you - but you need to get to know someone first before you'll be the smiley, playful baby that you are with us. I love you, kiddo.

Long post coming up...

Anyone reading my blog at this point (Hi FIFs!) is a parent (or about to become a parent), so you know how life can be even during vacation times.

Tonight I had a momentary scare. This was one of those times where I grabbed my child, held him to my chest (annoying him greatly) and did the best check-over I could do while clasping him to me, listening to his breathing and smothering him in kisses.

He coughed. He's been coughing, but also drooling a LOT (probably teething, based on other things he's been doing). So initially the cough didn't give me pause. It was the whoooooooooooop that came at the end of his short cough sequence. I freaked out.

I live in California, where there is a whooping cough epidemic ongoing. Now, we don't get out much and the Little Man stays with us all day every day so there isn't much chance of him being exposed to anyone with - or carrying - whooping cough. But that sound terrified me.

Then I remembered - we just had visitors. Some of the Little Man's siblings came to see us, and their mother is fearful of vaccines. My husband tells me that he doesn't know about the youngest (not his biological child), but that for the two oldest the only vaccines they had were the bare minimums required for attendance at the Waldorf School. Needless to say, that did not ease my mind tonight.

There have been no more coughing episodes tonight, but I plan on watching him this weekend, taking his temperature frequently, and keeping the pediatrician's phone number handy in case he whoops again.

But then I got to thinking about the whole anti-vaccination movement. And I got angry. And I want to blog about it, but I don't want to put a bunch of stuff out there without any statistics to back me up. Vaccines are a very touchy subject (I know I'm touchy about it) and I don't want to come off as a blowhard. So I need to do some research on a lot of the points I want to make. And I have a LOT of points I want to make. Here's where you guys being new parents will understand...this will take some time. Life with an infant is busy, and definitely not conducive to dedicated study time. It's possible, it's just time consuming.

So there ya go. I'll be doing some research on this stuff and I'll be back with a post on my feelings on this subject. Seeya in a bit!

Song Lyrics

The Little Man loves music. It's a surefire way to put him to sleep, to get him in a better mood, and to make life in general better for everyone involved. It doesn't matter where he gets his music from, either. He can just as easily listen to music from the iPod speakers as he can when my husband or I play guitar and/or sing to him.

So the other day it was just the Little Man and me home for the afternoon. I laid him down on a blanket on the floor and put on some music. I started singing along with the music, looking into the little dude's eyes and getting lots of big smiles and coos from him. Then I heard myself sing this:

Voices whine

Skyscrapers are scraping together

Your voice is smoking

Last cigarettes are all you can get

Turning your orbit around

Ack! My kid isn't smoking cigarettes! I waited for the next song on the mix to come on. It was even worse.

I dreamed about killing you again last night

And it felt alright to me

Dying on the banks of Embarcadero skies

I sat and watched you bleed

Buried you alive in a fireworks display

Raining down on me

Your cold, hot blood ran away from me

To the sea

Both Jesus, Etc. and Via Chicago are songs that I love (and, by the way, if you get the opportunity to see Wilco perform live...do it. They are awesome and fun and possibly my favorite band ever). But jeez. Those lyrics came on and Motherbrain took over. I started thinking about all the songs that I probably shouldn't play with him around, at least while he's pretty little. I mean, you never know what they're going to decide to perform in public, right?

My husband has a story about grocery shopping with the two oldest kids when they were little - like 3 and 4 years old - and getting death stares from middle-aged ladies in the produce department. It wasn't until then that he realized that his son and daughter were singing Someday Mother will die and we'll get the money (From "I Palindrome I" by They Might Be Giants) over and over again. Yeah, I don't want to be in that situation. I realize it's not a huge deal what other people think, but if I'm going to be watching my language around the kid then certainly the music I listen to shouldn't be filled with cussing, violence, or drug and alcohol references.

I need to listen to that stuff now while he's too young to repeat it and then give it up for a while.

So for the rest of the afternoon we listened to Sublime.

Waltzing's For Dreamers

Dear Little Man,

This afternoon I decided to share with you some music that your dad gave me before we started dating. It's a special mix, and you're a special guy, so I thought it would be a nice relief from your teething woes.

At first you were listening to me attempt to sing along to Elias, by Dispatch (in Shona!) and that was intriguing enough for a while, but soon you became tired and fussy. I stood us up and walked us around the living room through the next song, but I had a new idea after that one was through.

Waltzing's For Dreamers, by Richard Thompson came on so I decided that we would waltz. I have no clue how to even begin waltzing, other than there are twirls and it's in 3/4 time. I hummed along and soon you were on your way out. I decided to keep dancing with you through Madame George, by Van Morrison. It was during this song that it struck me - you won't be my little man for always.

Someday you're going to grow up and I won't get to decide to dance with you spur-of-the-moment. Someday I won't be the person you reach for when you're sad, or want holding, or you want to be soothed to sleep. In fact someday, when you're a Big Man, I might dance with you for the last time if or when you get married. The thought of you being so big made me choke up.

So even though you wake me up at 4:30 almost every morning, you cry and cry when your teeth are bothering you, you puke on me, you poop on me, you require such constant care and attention...don't become that Big Man too quickly. Let me keep soothing you back to sleep, helping you with your teethers, cleaning up your gacks, and wiping your little bottom for a while. Let me hold you close and let you drift off to sleep in waltz time, just loving on each other, simple as that for a while longer.

Love,

Mama

Kick the Giraffe!

This afternoon I was playing with the Little Man in his play gym. It was just him and me, so the house was pretty quiet and I had the opportunity to actually hear the things coming out of my mouth.

Lesson: when you become a parent the things you say will make you appear to be insane.

My son, being 3 1/2 months old, obviously cannot talk. But I talk to him, and he's pretty interactive in a non-verbal way. Here's how today's conversation sounded:

Me: [singing] doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo da da da doo do dah! *gasp!* Where's the music? What happened to the music? Kick the giraffe! Yay! Thank you! Aw, was that a fart? Toot toot. Ding din don, ding din don, frere jacques...where's the music? Kick the giraffe! Aw good job. Do you see your butterfly friends? Uh oh, are your butterfly friends making you angry? Let's get you out of there.

Certifiable.

Here's what actually happened during the conversation:

[singing along to the kid music] doo doo doo doo doo doo da da da doo do dah!

[the music stops]

*gasp!* Where's the music? What happened to the music? Kick the [stuffed] giraffe [on the support bar of the play gym, thereby re-activating the music]!

[He kicks the giraffe]

Yay! Thank you!

[He farts, then looks startled]

Aw, was that a fart? Toot toot.

[resuming singing along with the music, which has changed to "Frere Jacques"] Ding din don, ding din don, frere jacques [the music stops again]...

Where's the music? Kick the giraffe!

[He kicks the giraffe]

Aw good job.

[He looks up at the butterfly toys hanging off the top of the play gym.]

Do you see your butterfly friends?

[He starts to cry]

Uh oh, are your butterfly friends making you angry? [Crying continues]. Let's get you out of there.

[I pick up the Little Man and hold him on my shoulder].

See? It's all about context.