Pruny Hands

This weekend we discovered that Peter is aquatically-inclined. He had cousins visiting a resort with a water park in Sheboygan and the resort screwed up their reservation and bumped them up to a 4 bedroom condo suite to make up for it. So we were invited up for the night on Saturday.

Everybody went to the water park late Saturday afternoon, but we weren’t sure if we were going to let Peter in the water. He’s had dry skin for a while and even had to have hydrocortisone rubbed into his strawberry mark on his back for a little while because it was getting kind of cracked and scaly. But he was much better at this point, so we were just being nervous parents over-protecting our little guy. After a couple minutes we did get him in his trunks and got him a little damp.

At first he was somewhat confused. The place was pretty loud, what with all the water noises and kids screaming, and all the sound was bouncing off the walls, so it was disorienting, too. But he just wasn’t digging it much. But we knew that he loves playing with water, be it in a sink, in the tub, or in the shower. So we thought maybe if we introduced him to something more familiar he might loosen up. There was a little area that had sprays so we brought him there to ease him into it as if it was just another shower. It worked, he reached out his hand into the sprays and started smiling.

We then let him play a little with fountains that shot up (or burbled, which is more of an accurate term) about 12-18 inches. After that came the big test: the kiddie pool. We had started him out there at first, but it resulted in The Lip instead of gleeful splashing. Now we’d see if we had cracked his steely resolve. His mom sat at the base of the pool with him and… he started reaching out and playing with the water. He got taken a bit further in and sat in the water, and splash splash splash he slapped at the water. She took him out a little deeper still and she stretched him out and he started doing doggie paddle motions with his arms, and even was kicking his legs. Success! He should be ready for the Olympics in 2024, I believe.

We took him back again this morning. He was a little sluggish after 20 minutes or so, so we thought we’d take him home. Then we noticed his swimmer diaper was full. We’re pretty sure he did the deed after we took him out of the water. …Yup, pretty sure…

Super Delegate To Be

Yesterday was Primary day here in Wisconsin, and in the late afternoon a plucky nine month old bundled himself up and headed out into the single digit temperatures to cast his vote. Never mind what the law says about a minimum age for voting, his parents didn’t have the guts to tell him he wasn’t allowed to have his say.

 

Now it may be because “O,” “Ba” and “Ma” are perhaps the easiest sounds for a baby to make other than tooting or the sound of spitting up, or it could be that the demographics trend in such a way that the younger you are the more likely you are to favor the junior senator from Illinois (and Peter is a sucker for studying demographics). I would tell you why he votes the way he does if he told me. But I asked, and he just shrieked and pulled his mother’s hair in response. I think that means he’s concerned about the economy and idea of having another Clinton presidency to go with 2 Bush presidencies is just to much for his idea of what the American republic is supposed to be about. I’m just not sure.

 

Now we have to tell him that it’s another 9 months before the general election, and that’s a lifetime for him…

A Sunday Funk (Not A Funky Sunday)

Peter has been acting odd all day. We think it's relating to teething pain. He's got the 2 pickets sticking up from the front of his lower jaw, and the four new choppers descending from his upper jaw. But we think he might have two more bottom teeth coming in to even things out. Which is good for developmental purposes, but he's just been a mess all day. Happy one minute, whiny the next, then more clingy than a baby koala. Chatty, then quiet. Perky, then passed out. Such is the life of a nine month old, I suppose.

 

Mommy and I took Peter to the children's museum for a little while yesterday, and for the first time he met his match. Previously when he went there he was the big boy amongst older yet not much bigger kids. Yesterday, however, Peter met Hugo. Hugo was not from around these here parts, he was actually from Spain, or more specifically, Majorca, but his papa got transferred to the great city of Muhwocky for several months this winter (Hellllllllllllo snowstorms!), and his family was living just a few blocks from the museum. Peter's mom and Hugo's mom had a nice cross-cultural chat while Peter and Hugo did their things. The thing is, Hugo (pronounced oo-go) was maybe a week older than Peter, but obviously heavier and stronger. He actually climbed up a padded play area to sit on a window ledge (a big ledge, in case you were wondering). So Ugo... I mean Hugo, was about the same height, but chubbier and apparently stronger. But he only had one tooth. To show his superiority Peter bit him in the diaper. Ok, that's a lie. Hugo also had longer hair. But when it comes to Peter's physique one must remember that there's only one way to describe it: "Ripped." Yes, Peter ain't got much fat on him. So maaaaaaaybe Hugo could climb up to window ledge, sure. BUT, if we were to oil Peter up and give him something to prop himself up on stage he could easily win Mr. Baby Olympia. And isn't that cooler?

Baby Torture

Peter visited the doctor yesterday. He didn't care for the experience, to put it mildly. Once he was wearing nothing but a diaper and was picked up by the nurse to weigh him he figured out something was up, and he went into hysterics. I can't say that I blame him, but the worst thing that happened this visit was a little pinprick of his finger to get a sample so his blood could be tested, and he didn't even notice that. It was purely fear.

 

As for his measurements, he came in at the 50th percentile for height and weight and 75th for head size. The measurement for his head was accurate since that was the first thing done and he hadn't freaked out yet, but when he got moved to the scale he was in full thrash mode. The scale was banged around a bit and I'm not sure if he fully stretched out for the measurement of length/height, but he was listed as being 20 pounds 12 ounces, and 28 ½ inches. He seems bigger than that, though. Oh, and his blood test was very good.

 

Other than that there's not much to report. He's got dry skin and well need to lotion him up twice a day now. He can eat some cheese and egg yolks. Um… that's pretty much it. It was a quick visit.

 

After the doctor visit he went to the mall with his mom while I got my hair cut. According to Mommy, Peter got his usual attention from other people, but he must have been suffering the effects of the shock of the doctor's office because he'd cry if someone admired him and talked to him. You'd think from the sound of it that he had the most awfullest day ever, but once he got home he was his normal, playful laughing self.

 

In other news, were supposed to get another snow storm in a couple days. Apparently we haven't had enough…

News And Notes

What’s new in Peterland? Well, he’s been striving to live a more vertical lifestyle these days. Oh sure, he crawls faster than Speedy Gonzalez after drinking a lot of espresso, but young Peter is not satisfied with a quadrupedal existence. So whenever he can find something he can use to climb into an upright position (furniture, boxes, an adult’s leg), he’ll get his way and find himself upright. Unfortunately, he also likes to show what a casual guy he is and he’ll use just one hand to support himself, at which point his parents freak out.

 

He’s also making different sounds now. He’s almost verbal – we think when he says “nanananananananana” he’s making his way to saying “no.” He usually says that when we do something he doesn’t want to do, but he’s not pushed o the point of crying. For example, when we get him dressed he gets annoyed when we put shirts on him. In the past he’d holler and whine, but now he’ll start off with a round or “nananananana” before he’d cry out. And even the crying like that is becoming less frequent (unless he’s tired, of course).

 

He’s also developed quite a eardrum-piercing shriek when he gets really excited, the kind that makes you temporarily deaf after he unleashes its fury on you. He’d make a great car alarm, that’s for sure.

 

Peter has an appointment tomorrow morning for his 9 month check up. We’ll be able to find out if he actually weighs a ton, or if it just feels like it. He is at an age where the rate of growth is supposed to slow down, but it doesn’t really seem like it has slowed much. We’ve had him play with kids that were 6-12 months older than him, and he’s barely shorter than them. Once he even grabbed one of those other bigger kids by the ankles and swung him around in a circle a couple times and called him “Pee Wee” after setting him down. I’m telling you, Peter’s a bid kid now.

 

Let’s see… anything else? Um, he has a new, more mature laugh now, but that’s something that needs to be heard. I can’t really write a description of it. Sorry.

 

Oh yeah, Peter’s politics. So, a couple months ago at the dinner table, Peter blurts out “Obama.” So we tell people Peter said Obama, and everyone has a good chuckle. Now that it’s presidential primary season those seeking the highest office in the land appear on TV rather frequently. When the junior senator from the state of Illinois is speaking on TV, Peter watches attentively and maintains the quiet needed so all can hear what is being said. When that other candidate appears and speaks, Peter becomes restless and whiny. When McCain is on Peter takes a nap. When Huckabee is on Peter looks confused. Now, the Wisconsin primary is a week away and I’m sure Peter looks forward to it, but he, of course, can not vote. However, I don’t think I’ll tell him that. Why? Because he doesn’t like not getting what he wants. And I ain’t gonna be the one to tell him no this time.

Winter in Wisconsin

Yesterday we got hit with 20 inches of snow, so Peter was a little confused to see his dad around the house all day when it wasn’t a weekend. We had hoped we could take him outside to see the mountains of snow up close, but the snow kept falling all day and the winds got pretty strong during the afternoon. So he got stuck inside with us instead. Despite not going out he seemed to have a good time, though.

 

One of the things being forced to stay home all day did was to allow me to putz with our video camera and transfer the snippets we’ve shot over the past nine months off the camera and onto my computer. Whether that means you’ll see video of Peter here any time soon remains to be seen, as my technological abilities haven’t reached that point. But seeing footage of when Peter was only a couple months old is weird because he looks really different now, yet for me and his mom it feels like he’s always been the same. But really, when he was still considered a newborn he did look totally different from how he looks today. He was born with black hair, but now his hair is a shade of brown that seems to get lighter by the week. The shape of his face changes quite regularly, rounder one day, longer the next. Then there are his eyebrows, which were almost invisible when he was born (but they were there) and now he’s got nice brown brows that he manipulates quite well. And his face has lost a good deal of the “flatness” since he emerged from his mama’s belly (not that he had that much of a smooshed face, but his nose is coming out more).

 

More facial changes are on the way now that his top teeth are coming in. So far he has the 4 front teeth all breaking through (slowly) at the same time. I don’t know if that is the reason, but lately Peter will jut out his lower jaw and kind of clamp on his upper lip with the 2 lower teeth. He’s definitely going to look comparatively strange with a full set of teeth. I’ll miss that gummy smile…