No! This entry is not about anything remotely related to my hind quarters; it's about my little boy, who we oftentimes call "Poopies" (I know, we have to stop).
An interesting nugget gained from my recent conversation with the Cap'n (by the way, turns out he hates, HATES, that name. whooops!) about this blog was that I rarely mention the Pooper. Which was sort of a revelation to me, because it wasn't intentional, and it's been bugging me ever since. Why don't I mention him? Do I not love my offspring?
Well, the answer finally came to me: because when I sit down to do this, it's usually when I've been granted a short reprieve from his precious consciousness and, even though I adore every inch of his miniature, doughy frame, there's more to me than just being a parent (in theory) and this is some of my only time to bask in that possibility.
But! I also realize that his babyhood is rapidly turning into toddlerhood, into childhood, into teenagerhood (ooof...feeling weak) and that I will really regret not memorializing all the little things that I will innocently discard from memory during his next stage of wonderfulness.
So, I am going to make an effort to write a bit more about my sweet little guy, including a new category just for him.
- when he looks at books by himself, he makes these hilarious "hmmmm! hmmmmm!" squeals
- he only says "Da-da," and when I insist that my name is "Ma-ma," he laughs and exclaims "Da-da!"
- he is obsessed with emptying bags and purses, and clearing tables of their contents, which he takes very seriously. During the job, he turns each object front to back, front to back, with an efficient twist of the wrist, and then deliberately and swiftly throws it down behind him as he's onto the next thing. Except neatly-folded laundry. That just goes on the floor as quickly as possible.
- when he eats Annie's Shells & Cheddar, he does so, piece by piece, by inserting his index finger into the crook of the shell
- he loves it when I tickle his neck. When I stop, he moves my hand back to do it again.
- he's beginning to take his first steps. The other day I saw him (accidentally, I think) launch off from the coffee table towards his toys, take two unassisted steps, freeze, and then slowly sink to the floor. I love that he was experiencing some sort of nonverbal "what the HELL was I thinking?" baby thoughts at that moment.
- when I'm lazy in the mornings and don't want to get up, he crawls around the bed and periodically comes and lays his head on my shoulder and snuggles in. My heart melts every time.