the Kidlet
Puppybutt
Captain Hiccups
Hoover the Ravenous
Squirt
the humiliation has only begun, I fear.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Likes and dislikes
Things I like:
christmas tree lights
blinds, especially in the morning
my swing
milk
sleeping on people
space heaters
Things I don't like:
Wet diapers
waiting
Dad's stubbly chin
cold
my car seat when not in motion (see "waiting," above)
baths
I probably weigh a little over ten pounds by now. I eat a lot, and often. In the evenings I get all crampy and upset sometimes, because all the air I've swallowed in my enthusiastic gaspimh and gulpimg tends to build up in my tummy and make me miserable. Thrn somebody -- usually dad -- makes me do lrg exercises and stretch out on my back -- which I hate, and I always let them know -- but eventually thry tug on one foot or the other and I let the bubbles out. Loudly. And then I feel better.
christmas tree lights
blinds, especially in the morning
my swing
milk
sleeping on people
space heaters
Things I don't like:
Wet diapers
waiting
Dad's stubbly chin
cold
my car seat when not in motion (see "waiting," above)
baths
I probably weigh a little over ten pounds by now. I eat a lot, and often. In the evenings I get all crampy and upset sometimes, because all the air I've swallowed in my enthusiastic gaspimh and gulpimg tends to build up in my tummy and make me miserable. Thrn somebody -- usually dad -- makes me do lrg exercises and stretch out on my back -- which I hate, and I always let them know -- but eventually thry tug on one foot or the other and I let the bubbles out. Loudly. And then I feel better.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
On being two weeks old
I have gotten more adept with my hands. They rarely stab me in the eyes anymore, and while I still lke to claw at my cheeks with them while I nurse (in these little ecstatic spasms of self-destruction), I don't think they're much of a real danger.
My poop has gone from black to green to yellow to brownish-yellow, much to the ridiculous rejoicing of my parents. I expell it with vigor and style, and often quite a bit of noise.
I have become a champion at nursing, too, venturing under the nipple even first thing in the morning when I know full well I'll be opening the floodgates of those throbbing orbs. Sometimes I do get overwhelmed and my frantic and audible gulping can't keep up, so I sputter and take a rest, sometimes to cry for a frustrated moment. Dad refers to this as "drinking from the fire hose."
whoops crying break...
I like the Baby Bjorn frontpack carrier; I usually fall asleep in it within a few minutes, even when I'm pretty beside myself with hoarse, bellowing baby rage.
Then I sleep. Gasping, wheezy, active sleep, in which I periodically raise both hands to the sky like I am directing the characters in my dreams to dance! dance!
Sometimes the transition from bellowing to sleep is so abrupt that it's really mid-cry, and I fall asleep with my angry little fists still up by my face, my head lolling backward with my little red cheeks all puffed out and my mouth suddenly relaxed into a surprised and sleepy "O."
My poop has gone from black to green to yellow to brownish-yellow, much to the ridiculous rejoicing of my parents. I expell it with vigor and style, and often quite a bit of noise.
I have become a champion at nursing, too, venturing under the nipple even first thing in the morning when I know full well I'll be opening the floodgates of those throbbing orbs. Sometimes I do get overwhelmed and my frantic and audible gulping can't keep up, so I sputter and take a rest, sometimes to cry for a frustrated moment. Dad refers to this as "drinking from the fire hose."
whoops crying break...
I like the Baby Bjorn frontpack carrier; I usually fall asleep in it within a few minutes, even when I'm pretty beside myself with hoarse, bellowing baby rage.
Then I sleep. Gasping, wheezy, active sleep, in which I periodically raise both hands to the sky like I am directing the characters in my dreams to dance! dance!
Sometimes the transition from bellowing to sleep is so abrupt that it's really mid-cry, and I fall asleep with my angry little fists still up by my face, my head lolling backward with my little red cheeks all puffed out and my mouth suddenly relaxed into a surprised and sleepy "O."
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Observations on life outside the womb
It gets cold out here. I don't like that at all. I also don't like baths, even though they are sort of warm and wet...like my soiled diapers, which I also don't like having changed. Maybe I just dont like being clean.
I do like christmas tree lights, and any other multicolored lighting wonders. And patterns -- mom's polkadot pajamas, dad's plaid shirt, whatever. I like mom's milk, a lot -- so much so that sometimes I do get a little overexcited and swallow a bunch of air. I like long hair, although I'm not coordinated enough to really grab onto it...yet.
I really like sleeping on people. It's so, so, so much better than sleeping by myself. First there's the body heat, and the heartbeat, and the breathing...heck, I even like daddy's snoring. Even when it's right next to my ear.
I have a bad habit already: I like to lull grownups into thinking I am stable and calm and sleeping on their shoulder, balanced and sexure...and then I suddenly muster all my strength and dive head-first in whatever direction is most dangerous. Scares the hell out of them...and out of my mom, who thinks I'm going to break my neck.
Most of the time, I like driving...it puts me to sleep. But every once in a while, I really hate the car seat.
I don't like my room. But that's because the only time I really spend in it is when daddy's changing my diapers and clothes...NOT my favorite activities. In fact, I think of it as the "baby torture chamber." So I go ahead and get upset as soon as we go in there, just to let them know that I'm wise to their sinister plans.
Still, being out here is pretty nice. Beats being born...that was uncomfortable!
I do like christmas tree lights, and any other multicolored lighting wonders. And patterns -- mom's polkadot pajamas, dad's plaid shirt, whatever. I like mom's milk, a lot -- so much so that sometimes I do get a little overexcited and swallow a bunch of air. I like long hair, although I'm not coordinated enough to really grab onto it...yet.
I really like sleeping on people. It's so, so, so much better than sleeping by myself. First there's the body heat, and the heartbeat, and the breathing...heck, I even like daddy's snoring. Even when it's right next to my ear.
I have a bad habit already: I like to lull grownups into thinking I am stable and calm and sleeping on their shoulder, balanced and sexure...and then I suddenly muster all my strength and dive head-first in whatever direction is most dangerous. Scares the hell out of them...and out of my mom, who thinks I'm going to break my neck.
Most of the time, I like driving...it puts me to sleep. But every once in a while, I really hate the car seat.
I don't like my room. But that's because the only time I really spend in it is when daddy's changing my diapers and clothes...NOT my favorite activities. In fact, I think of it as the "baby torture chamber." So I go ahead and get upset as soon as we go in there, just to let them know that I'm wise to their sinister plans.
Still, being out here is pretty nice. Beats being born...that was uncomfortable!
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
And here I am!
Birth was sort of rough. I did my part -- in the middle of a strong contraction, I punched right through and broke mom's water. SPLOOOSH. Unfortunately, it wasn't quite the easy waterslide entry into the world I was hoping for, but 8 hours later I took my first breath and gave a hearty yell.
So far, breastfeeding is my favorite thing. I also like to practice karate moves with my hands and feet, and I have perfected a shifty-eyed avoidant gaxe for those moments when my parents are trying to figure out what's going on in my head.
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