Everybody Needs A Holiday

So far Peter had experienced only a couple holidays of note – 4th of July and Halloween being the only ones marked by social gatherings (true, he was around for Mothers Day and Fathers Day, but he pretty much slept through those). Thanksgiving, though, was his first of The Holidays. Crowds of family and piles of food. Fun for everyone, right? Peter, though, had a problem. He was tired, cranky, and perhaps worst of all for him, constipated. In fact, he didn’t relieve his colon until late Friday afternoon. Visiting his mother’s side of the family resulted in frequent appearances of The Lip – the tremendous thrusting out of his lower lip indicating he is not a happy camper, which is frequently followed by an unhappy cry. We think the reasons for his behavior, aside from being tired and constipated, are that he woke up in his car seat at the party, which was loud and crowded. He’s at an age where he’s becoming more aware of the things and people around him, and being suddenly in the middle of 15-20 people overwhelmed him, especially when he was the center of attention. Earlier in the day he was in better spirits when he was visited by his Aunt Sarah, but at that time he was in his house and he was in charge, so while he wasn’t terribly perky, he was at least able to enjoy himself a little.

Friday for him was spent recovering and relaxing (not shopping at 4:00 AM), and by the end of the day he was able to overcome his physical condition and fill up several diapers, copiously. Following his relief, he had about an hour’s worth of ecstatic energy, and then crashed like Britney Spears in court

Saturday would be a test for him. We had been invited down to Chicago for his cousin Amanda’s 16th birthday party, to be held at a restaurant in Chinatown. First of all, he had never left the state of Wisconsin, nor had he been in his car seat for as long as it would take to get him to his destination. Would this be a problem? Would Cranky Pete be joining us, or Nice Guy Pete? Both Peter’s Mom and I were nervous, to say the least. Fortunately, it was the good-natured fun-boy who drove down to Chicago with us. He slept most of the way, but he had some toys in his seat in case he woke up. One of them is a toy remote control we got him to try and get him off the TV’s remote that he loves so darned much. He didn’t like it at first, but since then has accepted it somewhat (even if he prefers the real thing). The toy remote makes noises when you push the buttons, and it has 3 different language settings depending if you hit the “Hello”, “Hola” or “Bon Jour” buttons. So you can get it to say “one, two, three…”, “uno, dos, tres…”, or “un, deux, trois…” in addition to the three greetings. Anyway, we’d be driving along thinking Peter was asleep and suddenly we’d hear this voice say “bon jour!” And then “bon jour! Bon jour! Bon jour!” So, he kept himself occupied pretty well.

We arrived at the restaurant early, but his Grandma, Uncle Mike, Uncle Joey, Cousin Elana and Cousin George were already there, and it wound up that everyone came in in stages so Peter was eased into being in a large group. And aside from moments of fatigue (only a few appearances of The Lip) he was pretty much a happy, charming lad. I think it helped that he wasn't the center of attention and he was able to observe somewhat passively for most of the evening instead of actively participating.

In other developments, he’s working on getting his butt up in the air for proper crawling. Up to this point he’s done a commando-crawl, but using only his left leg and right arm to propel himself. Now he’ll get up on all fours and rock back and forth a couple times. So he’s building up the strength and coordination to do an actual by-the-book crawl. We’ll see how long it takes for him to put all the pieces together. But we know once he does do it he’ll be flying all over the place.

The tale of the tape

We took the little guy to the pediatrician yesterday for his 6-month check-up. We had to wait forever before he got called in, and, wouldn’t you know it, there was another Peter in the waiting room, so there was a surge to go to the examining room when “Peter!” was called out. Fortunately, our Peter was the lucky one who got to be seen.

He had been having a nice time on his mom & dad’s laps in the waiting room, but when he got to the examining room and started having his clothes removed he kicked into unhappy baby mode. He’s not the type to engage in tantrums, but he did get fussier than we had seen him in some time. After about a minute of it, though, he calmed down so he could get measured. Maybe it’s all the coffee we’ve been giving him stunting his growth, but his height and weight are back down to the 75th percentile (27 ½ inches and 18 pounds 14 ounces, respectively). Meanwhile, his head has grown to the point that it’s now 75th percentile, too. At least he’s symmetrical.

Peter has also been requesting cello music of late. At least, that’s what I think he means when he says “ma ma ma” as clearly as he has been doing lately. He just probably isn’t able to say the “Yo Yo” part yet.

Half a year?

Saturday morning at 9:04 Peter officially turned 6 months old. To celebrate the moment we got out the camera, and wound up getting a bunch of shots of him with his hand in his mouth. I think it may be because of his upper front teeth threatening to break through at any day now, but there’s a lot of activity going on with his mouth. He’s drooling more than before, and he’s been grabbing my glasses at every opportunity to chomp on them (he got them at least 4 times yesterday). He’s also been waking up a couple times a night, crying a hurting cry instead of a hungry cry. Poor little guy.

When he’s feeling ok he’s been doing a lot more. He’s been having solid food (not solid-solid, but blenderized-to-a-fine-purée-solid) almost every night at dinner. This weekend he was given organic green beans for the first time. Now, Peter does not yet have the ability to speak proper words, but this does not mean he is unable to communicate complex messages. The first time he gets a spoonful of these green beans, he morphs his dynamic face into an expression which speaks the following words, verbatim: Dear sweet merciful God, what the heck was on that spoon? Then his face changes a little to express this: I gotta stop being a nice baby. Then he swallows.

We aren’t horrible, mean parents, so we disguise the beans with the rice cereal that he likes so much. Actually, I’m not sure if he hated the beans more or the bananas. The pulverized bananas we got had quite a lot of citric acid listed on the label, and it tasted more like lemon than bananas. I’d tell you what Peter’s face said when he had that, except I couldn’t tell because it was all puckered up into itself.

Peter is now old enough to really take note of the stimuli that surround him, and not just pretty colors or flashing lights. His reactions to sounds are some of the most interesting. About the only TV he watches is Sesame Street, and for the most part he is disinterested in it. Except when Prairie Dawn is on. Prairie Dawn is a Muppet little girl, that mostly appears with Cookie Monster to do the Letter Of The Day routine. We think it’s because of the voice, but when she comes on he lights up. Then when the sketch is done and, say, Elmo shows up, Peter loses interest.

Another audio advancement in Peter’s development is his reaction to music. A routine that Peter and I have developed when I get home from work is to put some music on and I haul him up by his armpits. Then he dances, mostly by bouncing up and down, but it’s rhythmic and distinctive. He prefers funk – nice, bouncy, rump-shakin’ funk. I’ve tried giving him slower, non-funky music, but he reacts to it like- well, not as bad as organic green beans, but it’s obvious to him that his dad doesn’t know how to pick music.

To finish up here, I’ll inform the world that Peter goes back to the doctor on Thursday. We think he’s grown at least an inch in the recent past (or his pants are shrinking), so it will be interesting to see what his new measurements will be. Can he crack the triple digits in his percentiles? Can he give 110%? We’ll find out.

PS - Bonus Halloween pic: