If I’m counting right, Peter is 15 weeks old now, or just under 3 ½ months. I just looked at some “old” pictures of him and I wondered what happened to that little guy and where did our big guy come from. Because there was a day when I could sit on the sofa and wear a sleeping Peter like a brooch on my shoulder, whereas now Peter is a 15 pound slab of muscular mini-man who likes to roll around like he was a dog with an itchy back before he nods off to sleep.
Not that I’m saying anything against our little hulk - far from it. The old Peter tended to keep his thoughts to himself, but the more mature Peter is a loquacious storyteller who regales us every day of his tales of… well, whatever it is he’s telling us. It must be very interesting, because it animates him so much when he shares it with us.
No, the part I’d gladly exchange for a little while every day would be the part that makes me recall taking physics and having to learn about mass, inertia, momentum and stuff like that. See, Peter is 15 pounds or so these days, but when you are holding him and his motor is running he gains at least another 15 pounds. And usually when I come home in the evening he gets a little excited to see me (that part I am happy about) and that motor starts running once he gets in my arms. The action that comes from his excitement entails his arms and legs pumping like crazy. It makes him look like he’s riding a bicycle like crazy - specifically he looks like sprinter at the end of a flat stage of the Tour de France. I call him Robbie McEwen, especially since they’re both about the same size. After several minutes of this I start wishing I could have the old Peter-brooch from the old days. But then he starts talking and I forget that.
Not that I’m saying anything against our little hulk - far from it. The old Peter tended to keep his thoughts to himself, but the more mature Peter is a loquacious storyteller who regales us every day of his tales of… well, whatever it is he’s telling us. It must be very interesting, because it animates him so much when he shares it with us.
No, the part I’d gladly exchange for a little while every day would be the part that makes me recall taking physics and having to learn about mass, inertia, momentum and stuff like that. See, Peter is 15 pounds or so these days, but when you are holding him and his motor is running he gains at least another 15 pounds. And usually when I come home in the evening he gets a little excited to see me (that part I am happy about) and that motor starts running once he gets in my arms. The action that comes from his excitement entails his arms and legs pumping like crazy. It makes him look like he’s riding a bicycle like crazy - specifically he looks like sprinter at the end of a flat stage of the Tour de France. I call him Robbie McEwen, especially since they’re both about the same size. After several minutes of this I start wishing I could have the old Peter-brooch from the old days. But then he starts talking and I forget that.
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