Ginger is almost eight weeks old. Born at 2:07 am on Wednesday the 26th, she is not quite two months old, but is finishing off her seventh week on the outside.
She woke the-f-up at about week six.
Our perfect, easy, mellow baby is, well, she's still perfect (c'mon, you know I'm gonna say that) but she is not the easy, blobby mess who had learned to smile and would fall asleep mid squawk. That squawk, the one that demanded boob, or being picked up, or a diaper change, was the only squawk it took to get action from us. And once their was action, she'd silently accept our response.
If it was the wrong response, she'd make some noise again. We'd eventually get it. But there were only a handful of reasons she'd squawk (true, she doesn't like sleeves and has a problem with clothes in general when they get stuck on her head or nose or ears, and who can blame her?).
So, until recently; perfect, easy, mellow baby.
But nowadays, Ginger has needs!
We are still trying to figure out what these needs are and which new (louder) noises are attached to which need. These needs (desires? wants?) seem to include include:
--Bouncing
--Bouncing harder
--Bouncing harder and swaying
--Bouncing harder and swaying on the yoga ball
--Bouncing harder and swaying and in a different location every 1.5 minutes
--Bouncing so hard in her "bouncy-vibrate-y chair" that we recall the "don't shake the baby billboard" campaign and fear the authorities
--The football hold
--The football hold with any combination of the above
--The over the shoulder perch (add above combinations , but include bright lights
--Bright lights
--Ceiling fans, off and then on, mostly on (Ginger may believe that a certain pitch of squawk actually turns on the ceiling fans, we have yet to fully test this theory)
--Boob
--Dude/Dad, I sad BOOB!
--Boob while bouncing
--Boob while bouncing, swaying and walking around the house, pacing around someone else's house, marching down San Pablo Avenue while our dinner party eats
--Put down the book, lady! And pay attention to me, now!
--Lady, put down the book, OR the beer. I'll give you one, just one. And pay attention to me, now!
Thankfully, we have found a magic spot in the house for her.
It is her changing table. Observe the photos.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment