Saturday, September 17, 2011

Rubbing his hands with glee

My last post was very indulgent and soppy, some readers have admitted to tears and other to gastric distress.  So this time I have decided to report only the facts without comment.  This way I am assured that the tone will be appropriate to all readers no matter what their disposition and digestive health.

Max will be 11 weeks old tomorrow.  His age wears heavily upon him.  He stares inscrutably at almost everything and wrings his hands constantly.  The black and white mobile provides him with hours of quiet reflection.  The play mat is far too much for his fragile state and drives him into convulsions of sensory overload.

The small bee (that he has been fixated on) has been replaced in his affections by his own reflection.  This I see, not as a narcissistic development but one of severe self reflection.  Such self examination is a clear sign of a deep intelligence, he must be very advanced.

The only thing I can't get past is the drool.  He drools constantly.  This I am told is a sure sign of teething, but it is also a sure sign of rabies.  I am pretty sure that Max does not have rabies, for he shows no signs of madness or writhing above that level that is normal for a child his age.  But the frothing and drooling is a bit discomforting.

He has graduated to the larger bottle.  Combine this with the cot, the clothes and the inscrutability and you have the measure of a man.  To see all of this in an eleven week old is surely presumptuous and pompous, but I beg your indulgence.

The larger bottle is big enough for an adult drink (that is not one that contains material unsuitable - just large), it is only just short of the 500mls that approximates a pint.  No one should ever drink a pint in the one go.  That is far too much liquid for any one throat.  In fact Max found it so this evening and the slower teat had to be brought to bear.  He took this without complaint on the first go and so broke all of the rules.  I was waiting for the merry dance but he just wolfed it all down, about 180mls.

On a more serious note, the bumper is gone from the cot side.  This is a bit of a tale but its worth telling.  The books (the infamous books) and the websites (fonts of all knowledge) say that bumpers around cots are not a good idea as they have been linked to incidence of SIDS.  That is fine in theory but when your son is whacking his head around in his sleep you think that a bumper is necessary so you tie it up according to the manufacturers instructions.  Then a good friend passes on a bit of research and info and it is very clear that an odd knock of the head is the least of our worries.  Two quick links followed and the bumper is gone.  All of this, all of this, and the little fellow has not put his head near the edge and shows no signs of doing so.  Thank you friend.

So what else to report on this Saturday evening.  He still retains his youth, beauty and loveliness, he still steals the hearts of all who sees him, but now there is a wryness.  There is a little curl to the edge of his lips.  There is a wring to the holding of his hands.  There is a glint in his eye.  There would be a jaunt in his step, if he could walk.  There is at the very least a swagger in his kicks.  Max is growing up and developing a personality.  Look out world.   




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