my days are numbered

...my easy-naptime swaddling days, that is. went to do my "bolero" mini-swaddle for a morning nap, and baby boy wriggled out of it like the younger brother in The Last Dragon.

had to pull out the big guns (the full-sized lappa) but it looks like the halcyon days are coming to a close.


two inch fists

i remember how exciting it was when he first began to use his hands. he'd be nursing, and would just put up his little fists, open them slightly, and lay them on me gently, as if to frame his food. so sophisticated, compared to the baby bird mouth, eyes shut tight, with which he'd previously rooted for his meals.

now, of course, at nearly five months, he is a master manipulator - not only can he bring his hands to his mouth to chew, but no longer has to suck on the entire fist~ he can separate the fingers and hook one thumb deep into his cheek, or suck on only two or three fingers at a time. he can hold a rattle, toy, pacifier with his hands, and pass an object from one hand to the other. he can use his hands to cram THINGS into his mouth, not just the hands themselves. hard wooden rattly things, soft chewy silicone pacifier things, tough nubbly teething ring things, soft fuzzy fleece toy things.

he can reach for me.


the tongue - it moves!

so, he's discovered his tongue. it happened quite suddenly yesterday, and has been constantly in play since.

he must have had a board meeting wherein was discussed the need to get MORE drool out of the mouth-factory and into the WORLD. enough of this passive, namby-pamby, gravity-dependent drooling! what we need is a delivery system! a TOOL of some sort, which would propel an efficient, prompt, and renewable stream of drool down the chin and onto the shirt. why, we were only getting soaked to the sternum before! that would never do, we've got a 3rd quarter growth projection of wetness from shoulder to shoulder and down to the belly button. there are stockholders to answer to. we've got stacks of bibs to get through, and that'll never happen unless we get a...

ah. the tongue. now we're talkin...


what's behind his shoulder?

it's obviously something way WAY more important and interesting than whatever is in front of his face. this child has suddenly become a squirmy wormy little creature~ twisting around constantly, leaning way over out of my arms. what the heck is lurking in his peripheral vision?