Happy

happy_swinging
Originally uploaded by A Little More Lime.

Well, So is now seven months old. I'm not sure how that happened so quickly, but it seems to be true. New developments occur almost daily, and we can hardly keep up. And honestly, between chasing him around during the day, and soothing him when he wakes up in grave teething pain at night, we can hardly keep upright.

Big new developments recently, for those of you who don't yet know:

He's crawling. Like a maniac, everywhere. He cannot yet get up the step, but he is trying.

He has developed the all-important ability to pick up small things between his thumb and forefinger. You don't realize how much you take this ability for granted in your everyday life, you people of the opposable thumbs. But for the first six months or so of his life, he could only pick up things in a fist; if that thing was, say, a Cheerio or a dead spider, he was then unable to convey it to his mouth because it was entirely enclosed in his fist. You see the woe this could cause. After much deliberate practice, which involved staring intently at his hands and willing them into a pincer, he has managed it. And this means he can now maneuver everything, no matter how small or unsavory, into his constantly hungry maw. Never before have I realized how many little things are on the average floor that you wouldn't want a baby to eat.

He has learned to pull up to standing position. He may be able to get into sitting position by himself; we think he can, but no one has ever actually seen him do it. But he can definitely stand up. He can pull up using any manner of object: coffee table, side of crib, my hair. This act of simply standing up fills him with such glee, such ecstatic joy, that he often loses his grip on his supporting object due to the next development...

He is learning to clap his hands as a sign of enthusiasm, pride at himself, and to fill in for letters in the song, "Bingo." Or for any other reason or no reason. This is the cutest thing I have ever seen in my life--EVER. He stands up and frequently is so enamored of this seemingly simple act that he begins excitedly and spastically clapping his hands -- and loses his balance. Fortunately, like Lee Majors, he seems to have figured out to fall without getting hurt. His little body just rolls in the right way somehow, thus avoiding major head injury. For now.

He does also stand up and explore the things on top of the coffee table (for example), too. He doesn't always fall over. No, sometimes he manages to stay up and focused long enough to, say, tear up one of my magazines or tip over Teruaki's drink.

Finally, we suffered together his first illness. We don't know what it was; something viral, apparently, with a secondary and very minor ear infection. He had a raging fever for a few days, and obviously that sent me into a panic. But he's fine now. No worse for wear.

Those are the major developments. There are always other little things. He can say 'mama' but we're quite certain he doesn't yet know what it means. He cannot yet say 'papa' though, so bully for me. He loves to go on the baby swings at the park, as you can see in the picture (that's what he's doing there--swinging). He has two teeth now. He is fascinated by mirrors and by water faucets; he loves to turn them on and off and watch the water run. And for those of you who like statistics, at 6 months he was 23 pounds (10.5 kg, roughly) and 28.5 inches (71 cm, roughly). He's bigger now, but we haven't measured.

Teruaki and I are fine, too. Tired. But otherwise fine. Honestly this baby thing is the most fun time I've ever had. I kind of wish I was Mormon or something. I would just stay home and take care of babies and make jam all the day long. And stockpile peanut butter.

Hegel on the highway

Thesis: 1992 Ford Aerostar mini-van (gray)

Antithesis: any Harley-Davidson

Synthesis: ??????
(Harley with a sidecar?)

I Love My Bib

I Love My Bib
Originally uploaded by A Little More Lime.

Well, Soryu is now four months old. It seems like he is making huge leaps forward now, but huge. Some days it seems like he changed just overnight.

For one thing, he had started to display an unwavering interest in our food and drink. He would not only stare unblinkingly at our food and drink, he would produce much drool during our meal times and go the further dangerous step of trying to grab our steak knives. We decided to--pediatricians' recommendations be damned!--start him on cereal and the cup. The first day of solids, my books warned, be prepared for a fight; be prepared, they said, for him to eat only about a half teaspoon of cereal. Be prepared, they warned ominously, for a tightly clamped mouth and rejection of the new food and all the accoutrements.

We were prepared for all of this and more. We sat him in his swing (we lack a high chair), put a bib on, prepared the cereal, and handed him a spoon to play with. He got the idea immediately. He smiled. He gagged himself on his spoon--the back end of it, no less. I took a wee bit of awful looking cereal on my silicone-tipped spoon and held it near his mouth. He opened his mouth; I warily inserted the spoon. He swallowed the cereal. He smiled and squealed in delight. He proceeded to eat nearly a tablespoonful.

So far it has been like this every day. We feed him roughly a tablespoonful of cereal every afternoon, and he eats it and he seems to love it. Much smiling and squealing occurs. Much cereal goes on the face as he tries to feed himself. No indigestion or other negative effects seem to occur. We can't wait to move on to carrots.

And then lately, just for fun, we sometimes give him formula in a cup. Not a sippy cup. A real cup. The first time I did this, he saw the cup coming to his face and so eagerly launched his mouth at it that half the contents spilled down his t-shirt. But he's learning. He loves the cup and the spoon and all their implications.

Recently, his ability to reach out and grasp things like toys (or my hair...or my nose) has increased tenfold. Alright, perhaps not "tenfold"--I don't know how such a thing would be quantified. But now he has several toys he can not only reach out and grasp by himself, but also tote around endlessly. And also throw to the nasty floor of the local Wal-Mart, as he did with Mr. Turtle yesterday. He doesn't yet seem all that conscious of his throwing ability, but I think we have a budding shotputter here.

He continues to love music, especially my singing, and he loves any kind of rhythmic movement to music (e.g., "dancing"). He is also developing a keen interest in the oeuvre of Dr. Seuss. He likes other books, too, but particularly the Dr. Seuss. When I read, say, "The Cat in the Hat" he follows the action intently, kicking his legs vigorously as if to say, "Out with Thing One and Thing Two! Put that fish down!" He also, unfortunately, tries to turn the pages himself; 'unfortunately' because his fingers are usually wet and his idea of turning them is indeed to grasp them in his minute fist and pull. Thus, all our formerly pristine books are already showing the inevitable marks of use.

He continues to poop only once a day. Only once. And at relatively predictable times, too. It should be any minute now, which is why I am in here writing this and Teruaki is watching the baby.

He can sit unassisted, now, but that is not to say that he can get himself into a sitting position. If helped up, though, he can prop himself up on his hands like a tripod and sit by himself. He does need to be watched in this position, and carefully, because he still occasionally plummets forward without warning. And my parents have these tile--ceramic tile!!--floors. Just this morning, in fact, he collapsed forward before I could catch him; we are all thankful that we were on the bed at that point.

So also still loves to be outdoors. In the evening he can be seen with us on the couch, staring outside at the sunset; at that point, he almost unfailingly starts whining to be taken outdoors where the dogs they can lick him and the birds they can poop upon him. He loves to pick up tiny twigs now and taste them. Or dirt. Or dog hairs. Whatever. But outside is where it's at. I have to admit, this tendency of his is refreshing; it means that Teruaki and I often spend long evenings outside, petting the dogs and holding hands, enjoying both our child and the glorious New Mexico sunsets.

Let's go, mom

Let's go, mom
Originally uploaded by A Little More Lime.

Well, our baby is now three months old. Actually, just a little over. I'm not as precise as some other bloggers might be. (Note: this picture is actually a little old now--but I'm too lazy today to deal with uploading the new pictures. It all just happens too fast.)

Soryu is developing at an amazingly fast pace. He's just started grasping things that he wants. He now loves to snatch his bib or burp cloth or my shirt or fingers and put them in his mouth. He also has a few toys he can grasp, but honestly for now the bibs and burp cloths seem to be his favorite "toys". On days when he's feeling especially playful (I guess), he puts both of his fists up in front of his face, examines them, and then chooses a thumb to suck. Once he actually put his right thumb in his mouth, grimaced as if it tasted foul, spit it out, and then put his left thumb. So, apparently all that examination is important to ferret out the crucial distinctions between thumbs.

He is in a drooling stage. I have heard this will last until he's about a year old, to which I can only say, "Huh. That's a lot of spittle." He is showing other signs of being ready for solids, too: he is big, he can hold himself upright pretty well, and he exhibits an unswerving interest in our food. We usually eat with him near us, and he didn't pay much attention to our food before, but now he does. We have always held up little bits of things for him to smell, thinking that maybe if we started acclimatizing him to some of the stranger smelling things that we eat, he might not reject them later. It's a nice theory, isn't it? Anyway, now he tries to lick stuff that smells good when we hold it up. He went nuts on a piece of licorice candy the other day. We gave him a little watermelon juice to sip, too, and he seemed to love that.

Our little treasure has become quite a chatty boy as well. He babbles and babbles and squawks and squeals, and this is all enthusiastically encouraged by us. When he gets excited, he does it so loudly, it can be heard two or three rooms away, even with doors closed. He laughs sometimes now, too, and that is a joy. He especially loves being bounced on the bed or raised above our heads and then quickly lowered, and raised and lowered, etc., and those two little games always provoke major giggling. His giggle is a summer carnival, complete with funnel cakes and snow cones and the Tilt-a-Whirl.

Furthermore, and this is blowing our minds right now, he seems to have just figured out that if he squawks or smiles or babbles, we respond to that with a smile or a laugh. Having discovered that he has the ability to make us smile or laugh, he keeps trying this new-found power on for size.

While he still likes "Abbey Road", his favorite songs right now are those that I sing to him. He is particularly fond of my rendition of "We Love You, Conrad" from Bye-Bye Birdie. I don't say 'Conrad', though; I say 'Soryu'. He loves it. He's pretty fond of "Wonderful World" by the Herman's Hermits, too.

He has fallen into a consistent (and pretty convenient for his parents) sleeping pattern. He falls asleep usually about 10:30 at night, sleeps until about 7:00 a.m. After eating and playing a little bit, he falls back asleep and sleeps until 10:00 a.m. or so. He then takes three or four short catnaps during the day. We are very well-rested parents. We get a full night's sleep, and then in the morning while he is taking that long nap, we both exercise, shower, and eat breakfast. Outstanding.

At three months, this is a big, healthy, happy boy. We couldn't be more pleased.

I'll post again tomorrow, with a tale about our trip. I'll get new pictures up (at flickr.com) sometime soon.

Ciao, babes.
Julie

Yippeee!

Tonight, as my beloved Teruaki sat in the rocking chair brushing his teeth, I danced around him, squealing in delight. Tomorrow, we embark on our road trip. The van is loaded down with all manner of supplies--gallons and gallons of water, Pedialyte (just in case!), a case of diapers, a tent and other camping gear, and of course lots of CDs to ensure our listening pleasure throughout the Rocky Mountain West. We look as if we might be embarking on a Himalayan expedition for all the gear we have. Tomorrow, we shall lunch in Santa Fe. Tomorrow, we shall drive as far as another state.

Yes, tomorrow we leave.

More from Missoula....

two bad dogs

two bad dogs
Originally uploaded by A Little More Lime.

Well, I've been prompted, you might say, to give more information about these two bad dogs. I've also been asked to provide more recent pictures of Soryu, and those are coming, along with an update about his progress. So stay tuned. First, the dogs.

My family has always had dogs, for those of you who don't know. We had an Irish setter named Grover when I was wee and we still lived in Phoenix. We had a collie for a while whose name I don't remember. We had two dogs when I was in elementary school--Samson, a yellow lab, and Spunky, a somewhat ill-tempered mutt. Once we moved to Reserve, NM, we got Wonderdog, a mutt who was lost or abandoned or something. She was black and the best dog I've ever had or known. A little later we came into a really big (even for her breed) and good-natured yellow lab named Bo. The Wonder-and-Bo years are full of good memories; the Wonder-and-Bo years are legendary.

When we were living in Montana, Wonderdog succumbed to cancer. After a while, my parents were feeling ready to have a new companion for Bo, and along came Tess, the little white and brown dog in the photo. Tess is Australian shepherd and springer spaniel mix. Craig (my ex-husband)and I got her as a puppy as a gift for his parents, but they didn't want her, so we gave her to my parents. They didn't especially want her either, I guess, because Richard hates springer spaniels. But she was a really cuddly puppy, and my mom's a sucker, so they kept her.

Tess was, as I said, just a puppy and wont to harass Bo. Fortunately Bo didn't get angry much, even though Tess would sort of run along under Bo and jump up and try to hang by her teeth from Bo's jowels. Tess had a real penchant for chewing, as most puppies do, and chewed up everything she could, including the hot tub cover and the sprinkler system.

Eventually, sweet Bo also died. And in due time, my parents replaced Bo with a black lab puppy, so black they named her Shadow. Shadow, at about 2 years old, is still very much a puppy and chews on everything and frisks about constantly.

Tess is neurotic. Tess feels it is her duty to keep an eye on everything. She patrols the perimeter of my parents' lot. She corrals--or attempts to corral--the llamas (my parents have three llamas), and when the llamas are fighting, which is often, she goes crazy trying to break it up. If any of us are outside, Tess will stick right there with us except for periodically reconnoitering the lot and llama enclosure. If some of us are outside, but in different areas, Tess will run back and forth keeping an eye on each of us. Tess doesn't like strangers much and doesn't care for children. She's far too grown up to play with children. There are only two times she really relaxes: when we take her for a hike, thus relieving her of her many duties, and when she is getting much petting on the sofa. Otherwise, she has the weight of the world, seemingly, on her shoulders.

Tess also has a pink nose that gets sunburnt all the time in the strong New Mexico sun, and it looks like she is getting skin cancer there. She also has blue eyes flecked with brown spots. She's a good dog, actually, just a little tense.

Shadow could not be less like Tess. Shadow loves people of all ages and levels of acquaintance. Shadow is afraid of the llamas, although she tries not to show it around Tess. Shadow carries no weight on her shoulders and needs no prompting at all to relax. Shadow generally does not patrol or reconnoiter, unless she is being pressured by Tess. Shadow eats and naps. Granted, when Tess is trying to break up the llama fights, Shadow sometimes goes out there with Tess and puts on a reasonably good show like she cares--she runs around following Tess and barks a lot. But should the llamas actually turn her way, she's out of there lickety-split, while Tess doesn't seem to care if she gets trampled, and is anyway probably too fast to get trampled.

Tess is wiry and spry. Shadow is slightly pudgy and sort of "jounces along awkwardly".

They are both, actually, very fun dogs. But they get the "bad dog" label primarily because they still chew stuff up religiously. Both of them. Recently, they got under Richard's truck and chewed up some wires--enough wires that his truck would no longer run. And this is a new truck. They also don't mind at all, unless a treat is obviously forthcoming. But they have to see it in your hand.

Soryu is gradually getting used to the dogs, and they to him. Shadow licks him all up and down, and he doesn't seem to mind it. Tess just sort of sniffs at him and then runs off to her other chores. He needs to get considerably bigger before he can really play with them, especially since Shadow plays a little rough. And Tess doesn't really play, except in this eccentric manner that's not really much fun for very long. It's hard to explain. But at least Tess will be there to set a good example of maturity for Soryu. I'm sure he's going to need it.

Flickr

This is a test post from , a fancy photo sharing thing.

The summer of my life

This morning a good friend called from Slovenija, a bastion of what looks like wonderful ice cream. He is also a sort of new father, his boy having been born in December. We talked, as I suppose new parents do, about how our lives have changed in ways that make it hard to relate to some of our childless friends. Babies take over your life, in good and bad ways, and that's all there is to it.

Shortly after talking to him, I was getting our stuff ready to go hiking, and the reality of how much my life has changed in a short time (since December) hit home. The "survival kit" I packed for today contains snacks, water, and a snakebite kit among other things. My "survival kit" for Japan had coins, a telephone card (in case my cell phone got nabbed), and maps of the metropolitan subway systems. My "purse" now--in fact, a huge diaper bag from Land's End, and not a purse--has a camera, a case or so of diapers, burp cloth, baby sunscreen, baby wipes, baby toys and books, and baby everything else--and no doubt we've forgotten something. My purse ante-mama had money, keys, and cell phone (and sometimes the "survival kit"). That's all I needed to be golden.

What am I to do with all my teeny-weeny handbags? They couldn't even hold one diaper, let alone the caterpillar that plays "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star". I think I'll pack them away so I can open them up again someday and find the detritus of this other life--Japanese gum wrappers, little picture stickers, maybe a yen or two. And, after the kids are grown, I'll even use one now and then.