12.2.07

Month IV



I think the fun has just started because this last month you've discovered NOISE. True and honest to goodness squeaks, chortles, grunts and nostril flaring.

Usually, I'm changing your diaper and maybe it's the exhilarating feeling of your bottom and nethers exposed to the air that brings out the conversationalist in you. I know it would me.
Your eyes widen, your lips curl into a tense, tight OOOOh, and - this is the best part - your eyebrows wiggle and contort as if they and they alone could single-handedly impress upon me the gravity of the tale you tell.
Hand and spastic feet motion accompany this undeniably epic drama. I'm not exactly sure on all points of your pronounciation but I'm pretty sure it deals on themes of high joy, abject sorrow, enters realms of deepest tragedy (expressed by a heartbreaking wail with upturned head) and then suddenly break into a comedic score

On this note you've shown an definite streak of the humorous (read, foolish). I have no idea where you might have picked this up. Assuredly not from my family, serious old codgers that they are. Maybe your fathers'side. Heh heh heh.



Then too, you've also started embarassing me in public. Usually in a very crowded store or maybe a library. Quiet places where people are bustling about very efficiently, Not To Be Disturbed. You'll decide this is the perfect spot to strike up your best operatic score. The one you must have been practicing in the bathroom alone with your hairbrush when I wasn't around because, let me tell you, it is perfected to a T.
Those nearest have only a split second of recognition because then their ears simultaneously explode. Those fortunate enough to have an aisle or two of sound padding between them and the Wild Banshee find that their only recourse is to curl into the fetal position, heads between their knees.
That's when we make our escape. Jumping over the prone, twitching bodies that litter the ground in our wake.

Although this is certain to bring you fame and fortune when you're older, following my footsteps towards world domination, right now it's forcing me to perfect my "Heh. Kids. What can you do?" smile while forcing a chuckle and looking contrite.


Have I told you that your eyes are way too intelligent looking for your little body. It's unsettling.

Have I also told you that I love you to teensy tinsy pieces?
That's unsettling as well. How easily I've come undone. From being an independent, on-top-of-things person (or so I like to think) to a goo-goo babbling dork.

How the coolest part of my day is when you kick (my stomach) and squirm for an hour every morning before you actually can get your eyes open and when I finally roll you onto my chest your head pops up with your huge bright eyes, little squishy bed-cheeks and the most mischevious ear to ear toothless grin as if you think you're a real laugh and I should be laughing too.

And I always do.
Much love, Mommy

2 comments:

sugar plum said...

awwww he's soooooooooooo cute looking, and yes, his eyes are too wise for his age. i love him and i love you!!

freakstreaker said...

that's such a cute post. you're such a good writer, (maybe when i grow up i'll be as good a writer as you), and what a cute little infant. haha.

il est si joli et câlin