Teach your children well

A Maxtastic Evening

My darling nephew Max came to hang with us on Friday while his parents went to the orchestra. He was the most alert I'd ever seen him, and since the Czar was fast asleep the whole time, we got to snuggle the new baby without having to deal with, you know, the old baby.



Poor Finn. He spent much of the night looking totally freaked - "What the hell? There's another one? I don't like the first one you brought home!"


My guys. The blondes are sleeping while Max is plotting world domination.

A Boy and his Spoon

My weird child does not have a security blanket. He has a security spoon. Six of them, actually. They are his absolute favorite Spring accessory and he feels naked without one clutched in his sticky little hand.

I have learned that if I'm going to dress him, I must first put the arm without the spoon into the sleeve, then transfer said spoon to the opposite hand and put the other arm in.

He crawls with a spoon in his hand. He beams with pleasure when we present him with a spoon after he hasn't seen one for ten minutes. He gnaws thoughtfully on the spoon while watching the kitties sleep in the windowsill.

I never want to lose these spoons.

Settling down for bedtime with Spoon.


Hanging out on the couch with Spoon.


Just chillin' with Spoon.


Crawling with Spoon.


Eating with Spoon. (Different than "eating with spoon".)


Playing with toy (without neglecting Spoon).


Reading with Spoon. (Look closely - it's in his left hand.)

Active bleeding.

So, I was telling a friend about the various bumps and bruises the Czar has gotten in the last few weeks from just being a wild crawling thing.

She asked "Has he actively bled yet?". I asked if scratching himself on the face counted and she said no, "Actual running blood."

I had not experienced that yet and was glad of it because it sounds awful and blood in general makes me squeamish, so my child's blood, well, that's intolerable, right?

Right.

Last night I came home to my husband changing my son's clothes on the bed. I walk in and he says "Don't freak out, but..." and he holds up a white shirt with several spots of blood on the collar. Apparently the boy was crawling, fell, and the one tooth he has cut his upper gum. The Czar was deliriously happy that I was home, he crawled toward me, the paci fell out of his mouth and there was a ring of pink drool around his mouth. Poor kid.

We couldn't do much except find him a sleeper that you wouldn't be able to see bloodstains on.
(Oh, shut up. You'd do the same thing.)



He's fine now, but I am looking into finding him a helmet, mouth guard and chain mail to wear until he's in kindergarten.

The Hunt for the Elusive Tooth

Too lazy to think of a clever title. Totally stole one from Mama Grouch.

The child has one single, solitary tooth at the moment. I swear it gets sharper by the day and the boy is realizing that chewing on stuff feels extra good. Unfortunately his gnaw of choice is my hand. I was expecting a fever, diaper rash, and major crabbiness, but the only thing we got this time around was rivers of drool.

It was tough to get a picture, and the one I finally got isn't even that good. No matter, it's there and I can relax about my child being the only baby I know with no teeth. (No kidding. I was having nightmares about him being completely toothless for the rest of his life.

That's the stinkeye if I ever saw it.




"No! Get away from my mouth!"



I took this one while he was sleeping. Poor sucker. (It's there, I swear.)

8 Months

My darling boy is 8 months old now. He crawls like greased lightning, he smiles with his entire being, and he laughs loud enough to melt the hearts of the population of several surrounding counties.

His favorite toy is a spoon (unless he can get his hands on the TV remote), and he wishes that socks and hats were never invented.

He's endlessly fascinating to me and I can't imagine a better kid in the universe.




He's also Massive Headwound Harry today. He woke up with a huge scratch between his eyes this morning, and this evening he wonked his head on a coffee table. The subsequent bruise was immediate and epic, but it barely fazed him and seems to have gone down now. The kid either needs to learn the fine art of balance, or I have to gear up for a childhood full of ER visits.

Doofy.