Finn is turning into one toothy fella! In the past week or so, several of his upper teeth have emerged--both his two front teeth and his two top incisors. I was so focused on waiting for them to appear that I totally missed the lower incisor that was coming in at the same time. Then when I caught a glimpse of his open maw (waiting for cereal and peas, no doubt), there it was, the Secret Tooth!
All those choppers, even though they've not fully dropped into position, are really changing the look of our little guy's face. He looks more like a little boy and less like a little baby each day. We were out visiting with our neighbors this afternoon and our friend Karen absolutely could not resist doing the "Grandma cheek pinch" on our squirrel. Sorry Finno, but I think you're doomed to a lifetime of people coming at you with fingers ready to pinch that adorable face!
Calling Linda Richman...
"I'll give you a tawpic: Coughy talk. It's neither truly coughing nor talking. Discuss."
Coming back from Seattle early yesterday was both great and awful. Great because I got to hightail it out of Seattle, with its accompanying bad mojo, and back to the lovin' arms of my boys. Awful because in the melee of racing to the airport and getting to the gate to catch said earlier flight, I lost my cell phone and got pretty bummed about all the work chaos as I sat staring out the plane window.
I've been in a weird place today. I think I'm kind of grieving for all of the work I put into WaMu for the past 6 years, and my bad mood kind of rubbed off on Finn a little. I yelled at my new (sucky) cell phone and it really freaked him out. I apologized of course, cleared my head and showered him with cuddles, and we both moved on.
Finn's got some new toys, and right now his current fave is the little birdhouse and stuffed birdies that our pal Clare gave him. It's so cute--you can stick the little birds in through the roof, or through a door in the side, and the birdhouse is transparent so you can see the avian chums hanging out in there. Clare, who is an avid birder and vegetarian, may be slightly dismayed to know that Finn's really got a taste for fowl! All four of them have been introduced to his gaping maw. I think he likes the quail the best. (Sorry Clare! But really, if something ends up in his mouth, it means he LOVES it!)
Q. What's the best thing about a trillion-dollar national financial meltdown that destroyed Mom's employer somewhere in the middle of the night? (Okay, what's the only good thing about it?)
A. Mom gets to come home early from Seattle!
Sorry for the mixed news. Finno and I had our first night flying Mom-free last night (Margot's first overnight trip away from her boys), and although he was a perfect gent who gave Dad no trouble, we're happy that Mom was able to book an early flight home.
To celebrate, here's a wee gallery (HTML) of great shots of the two of them together.
It's Monday, and on the off chance you need something pretty undeniably sweet to brighten the start of the work week, we present the following uncut hilarity :
It's a day in the life of Old Man Finnegan: "Y'know," says Margot, "some strollin', some splashin'..." The little guy looks sharp as he trades his birthday suit for some Polo duds from our cousins the Nadiles. Here's the gallery (HTML).
The Ministry of Silly Walks isn't just for Monty Python anymore: At six months of age, little Crazylegs Finn is sporting his own ambulatory antics:
The small man is bombing around the whole house these days, even venturing outside a couple of times. We love how he throws in little goose-steps, pirouettes, and Elvis-grade pelvic wiggles at completely bizarre moments.
Goofballs that we are, we keep coming up with tons of new argot for all things Finn-related. Sometimes exhaustion has something to do with it, too, as in the case of "Scorn and Quash." That's what happens to Gerber Corn and Squash baby food when it's being offered by Zombie-mom to little Finno.
Here are a few other terms we've coined:
- Bug-Eyed Larry: What Finn becomes when moving from the brightly lit kitchen to his more dimly lit bedroom after bath time. His eyes become saucer-sized!
- Dipetorium: The changing table
- Eye-rubba: (or "I, Rubba") what a verrrry tired FInn does when he's ready to go down for a nap or down for the night
- Hooteling: Finn's happy sounds, in the crib, on the play mat, while in the stroller. A series of slightly falsetto hooting/cooing sounds
- Dr. Drey: As you know, we call Finn the Squirrel. A squirrel's nest (Finn's crib) is a drey. John's love of old-school rap morphed our Squirrel into Dr. Drey!
- Smear the Mirror: The game we play when Finn reaches for his reflection. [Time to invest in more Windex. --J.]
"You know what I'd make the blog entry? 'Three words: Cuter Every Day.'" -- Margot
Heh--yeah, that pretty much sums it up. In the latest gallery (HTML) you can see the wee man cavorting with M&D, decked out for revolutionary fun in a rad "Power to the Babies" tee from our pal Whitney.
Well, we're officially declaring an end to Finn's infant stage. He's moved very comfortably into being a tot. What's the difference? Well, according to our unscientific poll (respondents include me, John, and our babysitter, Carol), there are some significant achievements that catapult a baby into tot-hood. The biggies include rolling from front to back and back to front, deliberate reaching, grabbing, and object manipulation, laughing, eating baby food, having teeth (#3 just appeared yesterday!), sitting up, and the ability to self-entertain.
Another thing that we think marks totdom is the fact that we are able to communicate with Finn and he with us. No, we're not discussing Nietzsche, but we are able to tell when he wants things, when he's happy, tired, or working on some new skills. Speaking of which, John is helping him "walk" towards me right now!
I recently warned my friend and soon-to-be-dad Hughes that if he thought pets were bad about bringing out the goofiest in a person (stuff that'd cause your guy friends to disown you in a heartbeat), wait'll he has a child. Margot sometimes asks what I'm chattering to Finn, and I have to assure her that it's too ridiculous to repeat. Exhibit A: Our little "Managing the Danger" routine:
As it happens, both Margot and I are out of town today (her in Seattle, me in Las Vegas), leaving the small guy in Carol's excellent care. Margot gets home late tonight, but I won't see Finn again until Saturday--my first overnight absence since his birth. I miss him already, but I'm sure Ted Nack (due to join me here in a few hours) will help keep things interesting until I return on Saturday.
Our boy is six months old today! Much like his birthday in March, he chose to roar his six-months in like a lion. For the first time in a looooong time, Finn had an inexplicable bout of post-bedtime outrage, with an hour of nonstop crying and screaming. I wondered if it wasn't a precursor to our doctor visit this morning. The good news is, he got over it, went back to bed, and got up at 6:15am ready to party.
Now on to the stats: 19 lbs 15 oz, beating mom's estimate of 19 lbs. 27 inches long, and a head circumference of 44 cm. Lots bigger than he was at 4 months, when he was already a strapping 16 lbs! We might start calling him Babyface Nack, heavyweight champion of 983 Delmas Ave.
The doc was super-impressed by Finn's ability to sit unassisted--apparently this is an 8-month skill! She also saw several teeth under the gums, so we should start seeing them come out soon.
He had one shot and only cried for a few seconds, then fell asleep in the car on the way home, where he miraculously stayed asleep as I transferred him to the crib. Whew.
Q. Hey, when do you think we can officially consider Finn ticklish?
A. Oh, right about now...!