This month's new tricks:
-Mention "Young Old" in the same room as the lil' guppy, and he'll turn his head instantly towards you...that is, if he's not doing something vastly more important, like playing with his toys or dirtying his drawers, at which point he'll completely ignore your very existence.
-We're working overtime on developing his language skills, and he's beginning to associate certain objects and people with their proper names, showing deep interest whenever "Mama" or "baba" (bottle) are mentioned. Taking after his father, he reserves his highest form of excitement for the word "booby."
-If you've been reading the posts lately, you'll know that Young Old is now eating foods other than titty milk, and has even began to nibble on an occasional carrot stick or pop a toasted "o" in his maw for a bit of slobbery gnawing. It'd be all the more exciting for us if it didn't now mean that his diaper doodads resemble in both scent and texture those of an adult. Someone is benefiting from the new diet, and it sure isn't Mama K or I.
-Young Old has begun to self-entertain for longer and longer periods of time, sometimes for up to an hour at a stretch, lost in his own little world of colorful blocks, rattles, and fuzzy animals. Another month or two, and we'll be ready for me to head back to work while he babysits himself.
-When wanting to be picked up or snuggled, the youngling has begun to hold his arms out to us and wiggle his little fingers. It's absolutely precious. That is, until he begins to scream bloody murder because we took more than 0.000193 seconds to react to his request. Acquiring patience shall be our goal for next month.
-Blabber, blabber, blab, gooooga, babababababa, haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaai, daaaaadaaaaabababa, ohoooooooh, gigggle, scream, shriek, spluuuuuuter, spit, burp, fart. Yes, Young Old has found his vocal box, and night and day has begun to take full advantage of his discovery. He has since become my alarm clock, waking me up with a "blahblahblahblahblahblahblah." I can't wait to discuss Goethe and Kant with my budding conversationalist.
-The Young One is now an avid cup drinker (water only, of course), and a sippy cup has become a regular companion of his. When we go out to eat, it feels like we spend more time helping him sip out of our iced-water glasses than feeding our hungry bellies, a worthy sacrifice as it's just so damn adorable watching him slurping away.
-He's sitting completely unassisted now, and has graduated to using a high chair at home and at restaurants. It's nice to have our laps back, if only for a few hours a day.
-No crawling yet, but he's able to squat on all fours with a bit of assistance, and can scoot backwards or pivot around in circles. Seeing how much work it is to deal with toddlers, we're not complaining that he's putting off complete mobility. How else am I going to leave him unattended during my four hour naps?
-Little Old is now sleeping in his own room, in his own crib, and counting Zzzzs for 6-7 hours at a stretch. It feels strange to wake up semi-rested now, and I kinda miss the blurry vision, hallucinations, and general fatigue-induced stupor. Wait, no, that was hell, and I'm never going back.
-Young Old and I have constant laugh offs. He'll giggle-squawk at me, pause and wait patiently for me to belly guffaw, then try to outdo me. It's hilarious, and I hope to get it on video for your viewing pleasure. The laughter is the thing I cherish most about raising this child. It makes all the sleepless nights, bio-hazard cleanups, and loss of freedom actually worth it. One laugh from my son, and the world's worries melt away into an eye-squinting, belly-warming, ear-to-ear grin.
-As previously stated, Young has discovered his twig and berries, and at every opportunity will head south on an expedition of discovery. Charming, my boy, simply charming.
-Not sure when infant pups develop an understanding of object permanence, but it seems that Young Old has begun to grasp the concept, often moving things out of the way to get at a previously visible object. Pretty cool to play around with, though he just gets mad when I try and hide his smokes.
Young Old at seven months:
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