Monday, April 18, 2005

Wiffle dreams

It's common knowledge that parenthood causes people to sleep more lightly, what with listening for baby and getting up early and all. (After Pete was born, fellow parents started amending this to "YOU WILL NEVER SLEEP WELL AGAIN!" But that's not the point.) An unexpected side effect for me: I'm suddenly starting, for the first time, to be aware of my dreams most nights. I don't remember much yet, but I do catch moments here and there. Last night, I was playing wiffle ball. I have no idea why. But I really ripped the pitches I faced. Now that's good dreamin'.


Pete is getting really good at finding his mouth with his fingers. This is an excellent development because it helps him calm down, or even go to sleep, on his own. It also creates a fun face featuring two or three fingers jammed wayyyy into his mouth beneath big wide eyes and raised eyebrows. Capturing that face on "film" (i.e., memory card) is now a high priority.

Sunday, April 10, 2005


Pete definitely laughed this evening, as we gave him his bath. Specifically, as Carolyn wiped off what we call "all of his necks." It was swell of him to do it while we were both right there.

Sunday, April 03, 2005

Kick kick kick

When Pete starts to feel a fairly strong emotion, he kicks his legs emphatically, back and forth, as if he's marching in place. I gather this is pretty standard baby behavior, and Pete now applies it to many kinds of emotions, more and more including excitement about a toy or face that interests him. What a world it would be if this reflex never left us: I would know, for instance, how a given class was going by checking whether students were kicking unrestrainedly during conversations. Or some students would learn how to kick kick kick as if interested in what's going on the way I used to try to maintain an attentive facial expression in certain classes. Especially good actors might brag that they could keep kicking in a class or at a lecture even when they dozed off for a few minutes. We could try to cut off discussions in faculty meetings when pretty much everybody has stopped kicking. Kick kick kick kick.