I'm largely out of touch with my parents right now as they're traveling abroad and not phoneable, and I'm not sure they've figured out how to use their webmail. They do, however, occasionally have access to the web. Hence all the mommyblogging. . .
Lucas is getting big. He must be approaching 20 pounds by now, and he's not yet six months old.
While a lot of mamas would probably be proud of such heft, I'm a little freaked out by it. Last week, a kindly, gray-bearded man of the banjo-strumming variety walked up to us and commented on our "little linebacker." And then yesterday we walked into a restaurant and not only did they offer us a children's menu, but the waitress brought a napkin for Lucas's hypothetical drink order and a ceramic plate for him to share our mozarella sticks. What the hey? (For the record, his only solids prior to today have been rice cereal and pureed prunes, and he's only been eating those for about three weeks. I don't think he's quite ready for the kiddie burger at Applebee's.*)
Today Lucas couldn't stop eating. Four big bottles of formula, breastmilk, and three servings of solids--including his first store-bought baby food (organic, of course!), an apple-pear-oatmeal puree that had the highest fiber content of any of the food at the local crunchy co-op. I supplemented this with flaxseed on the advice of Dr. Sears's Baby Book in another desperate attempt to solve The Poop Enigma.
He's also learning cause-and-effect relationships,** thanks in large part to one of those plastic saucer activity center thingies that arrived last week courtesy of Heather of ClizBiz. Thank you, Ms. Cliz. He loves it! It's also helping us to recover from a helluva hissy fit this evening.
He's staying up late tonight, and during his latest diaper change we exchanged the word hi a number of times. He thought that was pretty damn funny. During one of his gummy smiles I noticed a bright white sliver of tooth just below the surface. Time to stock up on Orajel. . . Damn. He was just learning how to sleep 8-9 hours at a stretch, and now teething. Grrrrrr. I'm going to miss the gummy grin.
*Ah, yes, Applebee's. Heather and her friend James came to visit on Sunday, and whenever Heather makes the long drive to our place, Mr. Trillwing likes to further punish her by insisting we do Applebee's for lunch. Yesterday was a comedy of errors--for example, my veggie burger arrived with bacon on it, and the manager had some inexplicable stain on the front of his pants as he haggled with me for a discount on said bacon burger. I was pissed, however, that the wait staff kept knocking into Luke's high chair and paused to hold sizzling fajitas over his head. What the hell?! I told Mr. Trillwing I hoped he was enjoying his last visit to Applebee's. On his way out, he riffed on Goodnight Moon, bidding farewell to all the crappy paraphernalia nailed to the walls. So sad.
Oh, and I forgot to mention: This particular Applebee's was featured some time ago in an alternative weekly newspaper for being the spot where the local white supremacists gather for their meetings. The cover art, as I recall, was a blueberry pie with a swastika cut out of the top crust.
**Here's one for you, Son: Fiber + water = poop. Figure it out!