March 23, 2006

Does it bother anyone else?

Bananas: Curious George wasn’t really a good little monkey, but rather a good little APE? Don’t get me wrong, but how the hell am I supposed to teach my kid about evolution when the venerable classic can’t even get it right?

Signs: Just when I thought I knew it all, I found out I knew NOTHING. For months, I was convinced that my kid was turning out to be a fussy personality. But I was puzzled because this fussiness was mixed with curious bravado. When faced with new and interesting situations (new people, airports, animals, etc), Arun’s eyes would just get widen while drinking it all in. He rarely exhibits fright. But the fussy behavior was puzzling. It turns out my kid was simply sleep deprived since his Idiot Mother completely and utterly misread his “sleepy cues”. The Screeching did not mean he was tired. No, NO indeed. It meant he was way PAST tired and don’t expect your $200, either. Criminey! I thought the original fussiness meant Hunger or Boredom, not knowing in the least that a tired baby can easily be distracted with some boobage or toys. I had no freakin’ idea that after commencing with The Screeching, the Tired Baby would morph into Overtired Baby where everything would quickly unravel into Chucky-style oblivion. In short, I had misgauged Arun’s optimal naptimes by about an hour and half and OH. MY. GOD. What a difference our lives are now that I have figured that out. I look at my college diplomas and just SHAKE MY HEAD IN GRIEF for all the good they are doing me right now. I need a license to sign off on financial statements, but good GOD, the state of Kansas still allowed me to reproduce.

Caged Wisdom: So, last week, Arun decided that yes, he might be open to sleeping in his CRIB. But only if the planets are aligned just so. And only if his Idiot Mother could figure out that he was tired ALREADY. Like, an hour and half ago. Anyway, previously, the most he had ever slept in the crib was 2 hours - and it was only on two separate, earth shattering occasions at that. It’s downright amazing to me to be able to set him in his crib at 8:00pmish, close the door, and WALK AWAY. I have been so giddy with the luxury of free time that the first few days this happened, I was back to Sleep Deprivation days because I stayed up well past midnight frolicking around the house, catching up on the DVR backlog, watching college basketball, knitting, and farting around on the Internet. I’ll admit, it was very hard to not drag him into bed with me when I finally went to bed myself, but I was curious how long he would stay in there. One night, he stayed there until 4:00amish - at that point, I brought him to bed, nursed him, then just left him in bed with me. I admit I would rather wake up to the sounds of my sweet boy babbling away while practicing his Bs and Ls. Beats an alarm clock, for sure. So, yes, YES - I do like co-sleeping, but realize that eventually he will need to move out. If this it, then I will accept it graciously. Sob.

Enemy at the Gates: Arun has been mobile for some time now, but he’s not crawling. He does this weird backwards scooting thing while on his back. He’s not at the point where he can exactly plan where he is going, but at this point, the baby blanket on the floor is really serving as a launch pad site of sorts. Basically, it’s high time I start babyproofing before he begins Mapquesting the house. He’s reaching cabinets and banging on the doors - it’s just a matter of time before he figures out there are all sorts of evil things behind those very doors (crack pipes, our stash of gin, the Origin of Species, whatnot). This babyproofing thing is actually harder than I thought it would be - all the decisions that must be made. I am not the sort to lock up everything in my house, put corner guards on every table and turn this new house into our version of “gated property”. I will lock up about half the cabinets and just make the sure the other half includes friendly objects such as DVDs or Tupperware. I just wish remote controls came with some sort of babyproofing device because the kid is already expressing his desire for the sixty squillion remotes we have laying around. Since I don’t even know what half the buttons are used for, he must not be allowed access at any cost.

The Prince of Tides: I used to hate bathtime. Truth be known, Arun didn’t actually get that many baths because I was afraid of his skin drying out. Besides, I wash his hair every other day and he frequently gets a Full Body Wipe Down down due to the fact that he is STILL craps his pants (what’s up with THAT? can't he just toilet train himself already?). So, I wasn’t too worried about it. However, he has outgrown the baby bathtub. I tried just putting him directly IN the tub, but he was too buoyant and kept tipping over. So I bought a small inflatable tub that fits in the regular tub. He LOVED it - he cried and reached for the tub when I finally dragged his pruned-up little body out of it. Even when he tipped over in it, he would get a shocked looked on his face, then continue grasping at his toys. It also made washing his hair a helluva lot easier because now I can dunk him directly into the water. This is much more efficient than using cup after cup after cup AFTER CUP of water to rinse his hair (when I wash it in the sink, I just stick his head directly under the faucet). The best part? I was using an extra snot sucker (I got THREE as gifts) as a bath toy to squirt water on him. I have never heard him giggle so deep and so loud - his whole body got into the act. Thank goodness for camcorders, because I never want to forget that. Never. There’s also great footage of me scrambling to grab him every time he tipped over. Must save that for the SRS hearings.

Million Dollar Baby: Now that Arun is taking proper naps, surprise, SUPRISE, he is not so crabby anymore and I am starting to actually LIKE the little turd. I always loved him, of course, but DAMN, he was so freain’ cranky until recently. However, I am finding that I really enjoy just hanging out with him NOW. I love lazy moments where I can just sit with on the floor and watch him play. Because surprise, surprise, now that he is getting adequate sleep, he has more patience for playing. His very favorite position is to sit and hunker down with his toys. I just set him down at the various Entertainment Kiosks we have established throughout the house and he gets right to work.

Gone in 60 Seconds: Now that Arun can sit fairly well, life is getting easier. He won’t stay in his carseat anymore, so restaurants were getting to be painful - now he can do the high chair. Next up? TARGET. Yes, Internet, I think my boy is ready for the shopping cart and yep, he's going commando and doing it without a shopping cart condom. My boy? He'd be livin' on the wild side.

Artificial Intelligence: I will say, it is just fascinating to watch Arun progress and grow. Not that I am proud, because as much as I hate to admit, I have little to do with it. Even the breastfeeding - it is amazing to me that Arun has completely gotten to his 17.3 lbs based soley on what my boobage provided him, but I can’t really take credit for that - my body and hormones just happened to work right. It’s nothing that I did “correctly”. In that vein, Arun doesn’t want to explore his world just because I am Good Mommy. He’s not scooting around on his back because I am a Good Mommy. He’s not babbling and working on his consonant “blends” because I am a Good Mommy. This is Intelligently Designed Evolution and as much as I would LOVE to take credit for it, Arun is simply doing what he is SUPPOSED to do. Somewhere, buried deep into the DNA of humans is this inate and insatiable desire to learn, grow, and succeed. It leaves me to wonder - where do we lose it? I'm sure all of us know at least one Loser. At what point does a human push his cards in and declare “I’m out.”? Certainly, most of us start out the same. So, as much as I would like to declare my little bundle of boy a genius, I can’t. He’s normal.

Regardless, I am still absolutely, positively captivated while watching his progress.

Picture Perfect:
Look closely for the drool.

Again, the drool. Behold the viscosity.

Nope. No drool. I just love how intent he is on his toy.

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