Young Old, Lunar Cycle No. 10

Things are looking up; only 20 days late this time around.

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Young Larval's developmental achievements, circa his 10th month of pre-pupa life:

• Having watched one too many episodes of Mama K's step aerobic videos, Young Old has unfortunately mastered the art of climbing. Couches, chairs, coffee tables...all stepping stones to the objects of his desire. Just around his lunar anniversary, our little Sherpa goat decided that he had graduated to the major leagues and went right on up two flights of stairs within 9.24 seconds. A baby gate is now a permanent fixture at the base of Mount Stairest.
• Like a true (*cough* 1/8) Italian, Giovane Vecchio has begun to "speak" with his hands. Waving, clapping, pointing, and gesturing rudely whenever we're slow to entertain him, our bambino is easily communicating his needs. Let's hope our fanciullo isn't paying attention to Papa's hand gestures when someone cuts him off in traffic. Vaffanculo!
  
• Crawling is old hat at this point...it's all about improving his speed now. Some kind of competitive bug has bit Young Old's cute little 'arse, and he now has us timing his laps around the bottom floor of the house so that he can continually best himself. Spontaneous races with Frisco the Cat are a near-hourly occurrence. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm all about promoting exercise, but when we're in the used clothing store and he's trying to grab at the spandex onesies, you know it's gone too far.
• Thanks to our morning ritual of bumping gangsta rap and prancing around in front of the bedroom mirror, Young Old has quickly picked up a few of Papa Old's amazingly well-choreographed dance routines, busting them out whenever the sound of music graces his inner ear. I'm not much of a TV consumer, but aren't there shows out there where our bouncy little guy can make us some money? Someone let me know, 'cause writing this blog sure ain't paying the bills.
• Lots more eating of solid foods, and lots less interest in Mama K's Boob Juice. We're considering starting to wean him completely around his one year birthday, in preparation for Mama K's return to work (she's currently on summer break, but more on that in another post). Papa Old is okay with this, as he hasn't been allowed to play with Mama K's Boob Juice makers since their unfortunate, but understandably necessary, conversion to Milk Cannons.
  
• Young Old has always made himself laugh now and again, but lately, he's really been cracking himself up. His "jokes" are firmly entrenched in the realm of juvenile, "potty" humor, often involving fart noises when Mama and Papa are trying to have a conversation, actual flatulence in a silent restaurant, purposeful peeing on his handlers when emerging from the bathtub, and drop-kicking his poopy diaper mid-change, all accompanied by peals of snorting laughter. Haha, hilarious, son. We're so laughing.
• Young Old knows his name, turning without hesitation whenever he feels his ears burning. However, this only applies when Mama K and I aren't actually trying to get his attention; in situations actually requiring his attention, a firmly repeated "Young Old" is met with a turned away head, diverted attention, or plain ignoring. Then more of that hysterical laughter at our obvious irritation, simply because he likes to torture us. Only seventeen more years to go, has quickly become our mantra.

Young Old at 10 months: