On the eve of Baby Grady’s five-month birthday, he decided to experiment with being the happiest baby in all the land. He grinned and kicked and screeched as though his baby might just burst with glee. It was really something. We laughed and shrugged and said “maybe we have a terribly happy baby now?”
And he is happier. We deduced early on that being a baby doesn’t seem to put Baby Grady in the best of moods. In fact, it is often a source of great frustration for him. So the more alert and capable he becomes, the happier he gets. Because doing stuff? It is the best. These days he is all grabbing and manipulating, though it’s clear he does not have total mastery of his hands. Sometimes they will betray him, pushing away the bottle he is trying to drink from or dropping a toy on his toe. Rude hands! What I’m saying is, he’s not ready for soldering circuit boards. But only because his hands aren’t that steady. Other aspects of the task would come easily, I reckon.
We had a big weekend. Grady’s Spokane grandparents came to visit (Grandma and Grandpa? G-Ma and Pop-Pop? Yia-yia and Pappy G?), we had a heat wave, and our nephew had his 4th birthday party. Grady had a hard time eating and sleeping with all the activity and heat, but he managed to lay on some serious charm amidst the fussiness.
Oh, and my baby? He can sit. He’s been sitting very wobbly-like for about a month, but in the past week he made great strides in stabilizing that baby. He’ll still spontaneously fall over, because he isn’t actually sure it’s his job to protect the baby from harm -- isn’t that what you people are for? -- but he’s getting dang good:
How much Baby Grady weighs: 19 lbs. 13 oz.
How tall Baby Grady is: 27.3 inches
Size of Baby Grady’s clothes: 6-12 month
Baby Grady’s shoe size: 3
Number of times Baby Grady has rolled over from his tummy to his back: 4 (Yes, still. He just doesn’t seem interested.)
Baby Grady’s eye color: blue-brown-grey-green; still calling that “hazel”
Baby Grady’s hair color: blond
Baby Grady’s new favorites: practicing his skiing, his new swing, trying to eat our flowers, golden retriever kisses, Do-Re-Mi, “This Little Piggie...,” chewing on Daddy’s beer bottle (classiest parents ever over here), nursing in the Target
Baby Grady’s new least favorites: when I say “OW!” when he bites me (I know; I’m so rude.)