News from the Front at Seven Weeks

Dear Friends and Family,

Today I am seven weeks old.  Sometimes I wonder where the time went and what I did with my life.  My hair is falling out.  I don't have any teeth.  I'm on a liquid diet.

I may look like a Shaolin monk, but I don't always behave like one!  Let's just get this out of the way: Monday was terrible.  I mean, it was really rough.  I viewed it as testing my parents' love, because only my parents would have stuck with me for those twenty-four hours.  Anyone else would have left me at a fire station Safe Haven (which is a real thing, I hear...no questions asked). 

As some of you already know from Facebook, Mom's most defeated moment this week was when she tried to plug a baby bib into a cell phone charger.  When I asked Dad about his lowest point, he just muttered something about the blur of space and time.  They love it, though.  :)

Via my keen listening powers the past few weeks (my refusal to speak is a choice--it's part of the Shaolin monk thing), I have observed that many of the parents Mom and Dad consult about baby stuff talk about their baby's "thing."  A "thing" seems to be some behavior--like refusing to sleep in a crib or only eating soy formula--that they love to discuss endlessly.  In order to help my mom and dad keep up with the cool kids, I have recently decided to develop a "thing."  Mine is that I must be carried in an upright position at all times like one of those princesses transported in a sedan chair.  No, I will not rest in that swing.  No, you may not sit in the glider chair with me.  No, I will not go in the stroller.  You will walk with me non-stop--and bounce when appropriate--every waking moment.  Sometimes I wake up in places I clearly banned (the awesome swing we borrowed, the stroller, my crib, a LAP for crying out loud...) and I let everyone know real fast how I feel about THAT.  At night, Mom or Dad usually ends up carrying me on our walk while Scout rides in the stroller.

The other night, after carrying me for the second mile, they were talking about how weird it is that they looked forward to getting a dog so they could go to the dog park and ended up with a dog that hates the dog park; they looked forward to pushing a baby in a stroller every night, and I hate the stroller, so the dog sits in it.  They were laughing about it, but it was one of those weird, hysterical laughs that is kind of laughter and kind of crying at the same time. 

All in all, it was a nice walk.

So far, I am pretty darned good at holding up my head on my own.  I can roll from my stomach to my back (sometimes), but I can't roll from my back to my stomach.  I make lots of expressions, but I still don't smile on demand.  Mom and Dad are hoping that my next milestone is what the doc calls "the social smile," which means I smile back at someone smiling at me.  I could totally do it if I wanted to, but I like to keep these people working for their tricks.  I notice the dog gets a treat every time she does something, so I am hoping to work out a similar arrangement over here.  I'm not ringing a bell when I poop in my pants, though.

Well, time to eat a meal and stare at things.  I love life!

Little A


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