Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Oh, right. The baaaaaabbbbbby.

I'm gonna quit my bitchin' for a sec, and update you, my darling readers on what started this whole enterprise:

My son.

(Who as you can obviously tell, is AWESOME)

My little monkey is 10 months old, which kinda hurts my heart.

Yes, I want him to grow up and have a great life, but that means he's going to become a man...a hairy, stinky, sex-on-the-brain, MAN.

I have a hard time reconciling that. I mean, look at him! He's too cute for puberty!

Moving on...

He's crawling faster than I can walk (yes, I know that's not that HARD, harhar.), and he DESPERATELY wants to become bipedal.

[He's so close, I can taste the ER visits.]

Annnd? He's already climbing.
Homeboy can't walk yet, but he can climb? Lucky Me!

He's fiercely independent and stubborn. I have no idea where he gets it...ahem.

My Mommy-feelings often get hurt b/c he is perfectly happy playing by himself. Sure, he wants to know I'm near him, but when i try to horn in on his games, he looks at me as if to say: "Mommy, I'm having some ME time, right now."

[Uhhh, Sigh. I'll be over here, you know, if you want some company later, or somethin'....]

He's funny. He knows when he's doing something hysterical, and will give you a look like: "Eh? Eh? Funny, right?!"

He has the most expressive little face. He'll never be able to play poker...much like his mother. We can be read like books! BOOKS, I SAY!

He LOOOOOOOVES Sesame Street. He does a little jig as it's coming on. Mr. Noodle is his comic genius.

He's not quite talking yet (He says Mama, much to Dada's chagrin), but he babbles a ton, and gesticulates with his hands as he does it. It's all very Italian, really...

He studies everything. Turning it over and examining it from all angles.

He knows that remote makes the TV work, and that the Xbox controller makes figures move on the screen. He adores anything electronic.

Also? He loves him some ladies. He's a hardcore flirt.

[In short, he's a total dude.]

He's a music baby FO SHO. We listen to classical every morning, and classic punk in the afternoon.

He will wake up in the morning, stand up in his playard and hit all the buttons on the sound machine til music starts playing, and then sit back down and play.

Little man has these little drums that play music when you hit the tops, so he'll sit there w/them next to him while he's playing with another toy-using them as background music. When the music stops, He'll put down his toy, hit the drums, the music will start and he'll go back to what he was doing. Hilarious.

He's got 6 teethies and more on the way. He also has his Daddy's gapped front teeth....Orthodontia is in our future! WOO.

He hates eating solids, because he wants to feed himself. He hates sippy cups because he knows that they are not the same kind of cups Mommy and Daddy drink out of, so he's not having any of it. He'll only drink from MY cup. Period.

He hates bananas, applesauce, and juice of all kinds. What? Weird, right?

When he cries (which isn't a lot), his tone sounds like someone is killing his puppy (if he knew what a puppy was). Hubs and I joke that it's the hurting of his soul...seriously, though. It'll break your heart.

When he's mad (which is more frequent now that he's teething and trying to walk), he has an ADORABLE angry face.

[I don't think he appreciates it being called adorable, but whatever. He can bring that up in therapy a couple decades from now.]

In summation, he's kinda the coolest baby ever. I love him so much it sorta hurts.

Now, I have to start planning his 1st birthday party...

Now, that does hurt.

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