Tuesday, June 28, 2005

Leaving Petey

I, Erik, am off to Greece in the morning.

Pete is now

1. Flipping himself over occasionally
2. Reaching out for people and things
3. Noticing and becoming fascinated by the cats
4. Giggling madly when he touches human or cat hair
5. Imitating, with squeaks of glee, the motion of raising one's arms and then rapidly slapping one's legs

All this has happened in the last 10-14 days. This stage is a blast. I can't believe I'm leaving him (with Carolyn and swarms of my family to help) for 11 days now.

New Pete tricks

Off to Greece in the morning.

Pete is now

1. Flipping himself over occasionally
2. Reaching out for people and things
3. Noticing and becoming fascinated by the cats
4. Giggling madly when he touches human or cat hair
5. Imitating, with squeaks of glee, the motion of raising one's arms and then rapidly slapping one's legs

All this has happened in the last 10-14 days. This stage is a blast. I can't believe I'm leaving him (with Carolyn and swarms of my family to help) for 11 days now.

Saturday, June 25, 2005

Storming

There was a big thunderstorm in Grinnell this evening--an Iowa summer doozy, complete with about five houseshaking claps, two of which made the tornado alarm (which seems to be very close to our house) get stuck on a constant high note for a while. The whole time, Pete was with Carolyn in Des Moines, and I happened to talk to Carolyn right at the beginning of the storm, so I knew they hadn't gotten any of it. Still, for the whole duration of the thundering, I was intensely anxious because I know that sudden loud noises really bother Pete. As in, at a certain level of intensity well below that of a concussive thunderclap, they make him scream inconsolably. So I spent the entire storm awash in a near-panic of parental protectiveness that had neither cause nor outlet.

Monday, June 20, 2005

Rolling

In the last three days, Pete has begun rolling over--first once in a while, and this evening a whole bunch. The sun of mobility rises.

Friday, June 17, 2005

Unruly Subjects

In a recent study on how babies walk (described here), "the data for 11 infants had to be scrapped because they refused to hold still to have their bodies measured." --CJ

Wednesday, June 15, 2005

Itsy Bitsy

"Itsy bitsy spider" astonishes Pete every time. And I mean *astonishes*. Regardless of his mood, as soon as I start climbing my fingers over each other, his face takes on this struck look--round open mouth, eyes open even wider than usual, and he shakes a little. It's great.

Thank goodness "Itsy bitsy spider" has a positive message. The spider goes right back up the spout again, undaunted. This may be a little creepy if you don't like spiders, but I don't feel bad repeating it over and over to Pete. Unlike, say, "Peter, Peter, Pumpkin Eater," which I'm working on rewording.

Another Pete favorite is "I've been working on the railroad." Who is Dinah? The train's cook? The train's horn blower? What's she doing in the kitchen, and who is that with her? Is the speaker really working on the railroad "just to pass the time away"? There's something fishy about this song that I just can't put my finger on. -CJ

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Grabbing water

Pete took a bath in the real bathtub for the first time last night. He was a little apprehensive, which is understandable since he rarely is in the bathroom and has never been in the tub before. But he was fascinated by the water. His little tub never has much water in it, so this was his first time really exploring what water is like. He kept touching the water gently, and then eventually started trying to grasp the water with both hands. He seemed confused that he couldn't hold it. --CJ

Wednesday, June 01, 2005

Hearing things

Two nights ago, I woke up in the middle of the night thinking that I heard Pete crying in the distance, muffled by a door. I slowly realized that I was instead hearing the sound of the bedsheets rustling as Carolyn shifted in her sleep. The odd part of the experience was that waking up didn't change my perception. Even when I knew what I was hearing, I could still recognize a distant baby's cry in the sound. Such is the rewiring of my poor hypersenitive brain.