Monday, January 08, 2007

Month Four

Dear Griffin,

I'm sitting in the living room writing you this letter while watching you go gangbusters in your favourite place in the world (aside from Mama's breast) - the jumperoo. The jumperoo has been a wonderful addition to our lives, as it's good for guaranteed smiles and giggles and squeals of delight. If ever the conversation in the room dries up we just pop you in there and the entire room turns to stare at you and marvel in your adorableness and beauty. You have the leg strength of a wrestler thanks to the Jumperoo, but your arm strength is still pretty shitty, as you only tolerate lying on your tummy for about 3 minutes at a time before you turn into an angry shrieking beached whale, and Mama takes pity on you and flips you back onto your back. I fear you may never roll over, as it would require being on your tummy for more than 30 seconds to figure out how to do it!

This month you battled your first illness, and you took it like a trooper. You were wheezy, snotty, and coughing like an old man, but there were still smiles, and even giggles through it all. There is only one thing in the world that is better than seeing you smile, and that's watching and listening to you laugh! I could do it for days it makes me so happy. And it's contagious. And the more we laugh along with you, the more you keep laughing right back. You have a deep throaty giggle, that comes right from your gut - it's wonderful. Your "vocabulary" has increased this month and you love to sit and babble at anyone who will talk back, or just to yourself if no one is around to listen (not that we ever leave you unsupervised!) You are a pretty happy kid, and are not shy about dishing out the smiles to anyone you meet. Sometime mid-December Oma gave you a Santa suit, complete with hat. While we only busted out the Santa suit on Christmas day, the hat became a major part of your wardrobe and we put it on your little head when ever we went out about town. You caused more than one lady to swoon, and strangers stopped to tell us their life stories as an excuse to stare at you for a few minutes longer. And who can blame them.

And then there's the whole tooth thing. I had a weepy moment on Christmas Day, the day we discovered the little tooth that had appeared in your mouth. Something along the lines of "I can't believe my little baby has a tooth! He's growing up so fast!" The first tooth appeared sometime during the whole bronchitis thing, and arrived without fanfare. The second tooth however, which according to the internet usually arrives shortly after the first, has remained inside you little gums, and I'm quite certain it was the cause of the majority of the screaming that occurred between 8pm and midnight last night. After Mama tripped over the dog and dropped you onto the bed while getting up to get more Tylenol, you quieted down...I felt like you were a little shocked that we'd go so far as to drop you if you wouldn't shut up, but you seemed to take into consideration, and fell asleep shortly after. You don't need to know it was an accident! We're all hopeful that the second tooth breaks through soon, as the sleep deprivation is making us less than charming. Good thing we planned for a PJ day today, as no one felt like anything more.

In an attempt to enjoy dinner on Christmas eve with both knife and fork in hand, we tried stuffing you in the high chair to join us at the table. With a few minor adjustments it's become quite a popular place for you to sit and check out the kingdom that is yours. Trippy and BooBoo the Bears have been enlisted as bumpers of a sort, as the whole sitting up thing has remained just out of grasp. You're a bit like a drunk guy in that you often slump over to one side or the other, so we just prop you up with bears and take pictures of you. It could be worse, we could be stuffing strained peas into your face while you sit there trapped. Before you know it you'll be enjoying that pleasure too, although not quite yet. Mama's not quite ready for the commitment to double the laundry volume again, so for now, boob remains the only course. You are starting to watch us very closely when we eat though, like "you mean there's more for me to put in my mouth other than my fist???" Just you wait, little dude, just you wait!

Sometime close to New Years Eve, you decided that going to bed at 7:30 was for sissies, and your bedtime has since been moved to about 10pm, under NO authority of anyone around here. It may be all the sugar that Mama's been consuming, but that's all over now, and it's time to go back to the old 7:30 bedtime of yore. It's very hard to understand what Jack Bauer is saying as he shoots the terrorists in the knees with you screaming in the background. I wonder at what point we'll start to feel guilty for making you watch trashy terrorist TV with us. It can't be any worse than that retarded purple dinosaur that most kids watch (who, by the way, will NEVER be permitted in our home! Terrorists -yes, Purple Dinosaurs - NO.)

I'm still amazed every time I sit down to feed you that my body is capable of providing you with everything you need to grow and survive. And apparently more than capable considering the rate you're growing at. I got a reminder of just how important that supply is when you were sick, and I was given some supplements for ME to take that would in turn help you through my milk. I'm not sure why it never occurred to me that I could take the medicines and you would in turn receive them - we only ever think of this in terms of the bad stuff that we put into our bodies - as in don't drink or baby gets drunk too - but I've never thought of it in terms of you receiving extra goodness through me. It's made me realize how important it is that I eat well, otherwise you're suffering from all the crap that I'm stuffing in my face too!

Even though there have been some trying times this month, and I’ve thought on more than one occasion that I may like to send you back or offer you for sale (Rafa and Julia say we could get a really good price for you in Columbia) I’ve decided that we’ll keep you. For now. Good thing you’re cute….it’s saved your butt more than a few times!

I Love You!

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