You are 6 months old today! I can't believe it, but here we are - happy and healthy and smart and impossibly cute. I love you, baby. I love you more than I could ever hope to say in words. So here's a picture - this is how I see you, and it is the most wonderful thing.
October 29, 2012
In the span of merely one week you went from turning over to sitting to crawling. Boom! Just like that. Now you are unstoppable. The good news is that we can play all sorts of fun games, such as Fetch, Chase the Cat, and Destroy Mommy's Bookshelf. The bad news is that I can't leave you alone for even a minute, because when I do, I usually hear a loud thump! followed by suspicious silence and then even a louder cry. You are so happy that you can crawl, and you don't even care about the red marks the furniture leaves on your sweet little fuzzy rounded head. Mommy and Daddy will be very busy baby-proofing the house this weekend - gone are the days when we could just drop things on the floor and leave them there. Still, being tidy is a very small price to pay for watching you maneuver around like the stealth baby bug that you are. Congratulations, Johnny!
Now get to work and learn how to walk.
(please watch in HD for your viewing pleasure)
October 25, 2012
I caught you reading the Rolling Stone magazine today. Well chosen material, baby, well chosen. Your President, Mr. Barry O is on the cover of the latest issue, and you seem to be liking him a lot, judging by the passion you put in nibbling and drooling all over the pages. Once again, you have a great taste. You see, Barry is a good guy. He's an awesome Dad, he can sing, and he has all of his marbles together, unlike many other guys in this country. So, it is safe to say, Johnny, that we support him in this years' Presidential Election.
Trouble is, neither you nor I can vote just yet... But we'll get there. You just wait and see.
P.S. You are almost 6 months old, Johnny! And you can sit all on your own now.
October 24, 2012
Every time you wake up the world begins anew. You don't know the meaning of boredom, weariness, and melancholy. You open your eyes, you smile, and everything is bright and different and interesting again. I love how non-self-conscious you are, and how you simply go for what you like and want. I am so happy for you, my baby.
* but awesome, too.
October 18, 2012
As you grow up, you'll discover that everyone is such a specialist. One time my neighbor, who has 4 kids, told me that she never let her first baby cry it out, but with the others she "just let them fuss". Mommy thought about that long and hard, and came to the conclusion that it is a big stinky pile of poo-poo. You see, Johnny, I believe that a bored baby is a cranky baby, and a cranky baby easily becomes a chronically unhappy baby. I like to keep you occupied and certain of my undivided attention because I want you to be confident and stimulated both emotionally and intellectually. I find a way to play with you, or to encourage you to play on your own, no matter how busy I might be. I come up with creative activities (they are usually very simple, but effective - like blowing bubbles, smelling the spice rack, listening to music while learning to crawl) and I manage to do everything I need to do around them. I want to be a successful writer, to be in shape, and to have fun, yet at this point of my life I find it of utmost importance that you are well taken of. So I write while you sleep, I work out and shower while you are in your high-chair, and if I need some Mommy time, I wait till Daddy comes home and I take a break. This whole "let them fuss" method is just an excuse for lazy thinking, Johnny. It's easy to blame the baby for not having time, but I don't do that. And it pays off.
The moral of the story, I guess, is this: do you know how we managed to raise such a wonderful, alert, calm, and healthy baby so far? By NOT LISTENING TO ANY STUPID ADVICE PEOPLE GIVE US.
|You mean to tell me you don't really have my nose?! Spoons don't sound like planes? The baby in the mirror is actually me?! Mommy, you are in trouble.|
October 16, 2012
We live in an imperfect world. There are so many wrongs out there, sad things and people and places, things you don't even suspect about. I will do anything in my power to protect you from those things, but I am aware that no matter how hard I try, sooner than later you will be exposed to the bad side of life, and the best I can do is to raise you to be strong and smart and good, so that you can deal easily with it.
And Johnny, I have a complete trust in you. You seem well equipped from the very start - laughter is one of the best ways to persevere in a crazy world like ours:
October 14, 2012
You are clearly Mommy's boy. You and I, we have glorious times together. We listen to rock'n'roll. We watch nature documentaries on dolphins. We browse the internet for funny comics about cats, art, and life in general (and more cats). We walk around the suburbia and we ambush old ladies with our cuteness, forcing them to entertain us by stopping and admiring us. We eat fruits and we speak in tongues and we wrestle on the couch and we make funny faces. Ah, Johnny - your babyhood is Mommy's favorite early 30's.
October 5, 2012
October 4, 2012
You and Shelby have become best buddies. For month she kept her respectful distance - I believe you were just too loud for her - but recently I look at you and there's Shelby too, never more than a few feet away. She likes to sniff the food I'm giving you, she plops down on the floor near where you play, and she meows in response to your sweet baby blabber.
Ever since we got your new high-chair, Johnny, Shelby is always sitting next to you. I suspect she might be a bit jealous, but perhaps she thinks she's a baby too, which is even a bigger problem.
~ Woody Allen
You are one happy baby. You smile the days away, and you make laughing your full-time profession. You get giggly when Daddy nibbles on your back. You find it particularly funny when Mommy throws your teddybear in the air and it does somersaults. Folding and unfolding my tripod just makes you roar with laughter.
However, when I try to take a picture of you beaming, you instantly turn very solemn and serious:
You are almost crawling. I say "almost" because despite of your best efforts (and believe me, you are trying - crawling makes you sound like a mini-steam engine), you only manage to go backwards. You also can almost sit straight on your own now, but only for a few seconds before you faceplant. This keeps Mommy very, very busy as I am trying to keep you from tumbling down from the furniture all the time.
And because I still haven't had the opportunity to take a photograph that illustrates your newly-found logistic methods, here's a random picture of you with a turban on: