Micronaxx

Oh my, I’m sad to report that our little Henry is losing his nice mop of hair. He’s got a couple of bald patches on each side where his head rubs on the bed, and they are getting bigger and less hirsute by the hour. The same thing happened to Finn, and it was an awkward several months until his hair grew back and started looking normal. I was really hoping that he’d keep it and increase its ranks, but that doesn’t seem to be in the cards. On the other hand, we can be sporting about it and start taking bets on what color his new hair will eventually be when it grows in.
I won’t embarrass the poor lad by posting photographic evidence!

Yesterday, Finn and Henry got a little box of gifts from our friends Paco and Betty Podmore. Finn got a collection of small, plastic squirting animals for the bathtub: an elephant, a monkey, and a raccoon. Our nanny Carol was talking with Finn and asking him what he might want to name his raccoon. She was suggesting names like Joe, Mike, etc. when all of a sudden, Finn burst out “Duke!”. So henceforth, he is “Duketheraccoon!”. This marks the first time Finny has named one of his toys!
John and I speculate that “Duke” could actually be spelled “Dook”, after the sound effects John makes when he is pretending to drink out of a cup or Coke can. He and Finn have conversations when John grabs a Coke out of the fridge, and Finn says “Dad-o dook dook!”, John says “Yep, Dad-o dook dook.” Then Finn says “Finny dook dook?” and John says “No, Coke’s not for Finny. No dook dook.” We also “dook dook” out of the garden hose when we’re playing in the backyard.

Finn has lately taken a big shine to identifying pairs of things. For example, he’ll point at one faucet, then another, and say “Two faucet!” Charmingly, on the way back from dropping off my folks at the airport, he volunteered, “Grampa Nack… Grampa LEE-gett… Two grampa!” And as noted at right, Finn thinks that he & Henry are both “(H)appy kid.”
He’s also started saying deliberately crazy things for the sake of getting a laugh. After he tried to orally decapitate an apple the other day, we told him not to eat the stem. “Eat the stem, eat the stem!!” he shouted, and we’ve made it a little game: “Should Hoot eat the stem?” “Nooo!” (big smile) “Should *Milos* eat the stem?” “Nooo!””
Even better, while sitting on the dipetorium the other day, he grabbed the little safety buckle and announced “Buckle poopy!” The buckle is, mind you, one of the few things that hasn’t actually gotten poopy while up there (unlike Leo, Finn’s hammer, his hands, etc…). I was kind of shocked. “Did the buckle get poopy?” I asked, genuinely curious. “Nooo!” he replied, breaking into a mischievous smile. As you’d guess, our lives now involve hearing many claims about innocent things getting poopy.
And on that note, hats off to our boy for officially discovering that adding the suffix “poopy” makes just about anything funnier. May this knowledge serve you well for years to come, son. 🙂

Courtesy of Merriam-Webster, The Word of the Day for August 5 is:
philoprogenitive \fill-uh-proh-JEN-uh-tiv\ adjective
*1 : tending to produce offspring : prolific
2 : of, relating to, or characterized by love of offspring
Correct on both counts!

After another sleepless day and night with little Henry, we paid a visit to Dr. S. this morning to see what is going on. I was unable to tell if it was gas, or the antibiotic, or reflux, or something I was eating that was bothering his intestines and tummy after nursing. All I knew is that pretty much like clockwork, about 20 minutes after nursing, Henry would start screaming and writhing, and was unable to stay asleep for any length of time.
I guess not surprisingly, the doc checked Henry out and diagnosed him with reflux, just like Finny had as an infant. She said his throat is just raw and red and it was no wonder he was screaming and not sleeping. So…the good news is we know what to do and the condition is treatable with the infamous “veg pillow” and Zantac. The bad news is that it’ll take a few days for the meds to kick in and his throat to heal, and then we’re on the Zantac wagon for the next 6 months, 3 times a day. As Finny would say, “poorguy!”.

Finn has been having all sorts of fun this week with his Liggett grandparents. Yesterday he was treated to a dramatic reading of “Three Billy Goats Gruff” by grandma, a chicken taco lunch with grandpa, and lots of time outdoors touring the neighborhood and playing in the sprinklers. He busy was making big strides in feeding himself with a spoon and actually getting the food into his mouth (as opposed to unintentionally dumping it into his lap on the way up). Both grandpa and I were thrilled to see Finny predominantly using his left hand, only sometimes switching to right to see if he could make it work any better (answer: no).
Henry is going through his 3-week growth spurt and is eating all the time, which is great for him but not so fun for me. He has been having bouts of gas and tummy aches and has been quite fussy and not very sleepy for a couple nights in a row. We broke the cycle last night–slept for a 4-hour stretch, then a couple of 3-hour stretches, and did not have any intermittent spit ups or howling due to gas pains. Whew. We both needed the rest!

Great moments in human development:

• In 2001: A Space Odyssey, primitive man discovers how to use bones as tools.
• In 2009, young Finn discovers how to use Dad’s toes as levers for operating Henry’s little swingy chair.

Our young man is very directive these days. He’ll walk right up to my shoe saying “Do-MAHN, Do-MAHN,” and begin untying it, even if I’m in the middle of push-ups. Once he’s exposed my foot, he’ll grab a toe and begin trying to drag it up to switch on the swing’s music (“Moo-geek!”), grunting with effort and satisfaction. I find it all hilarious enough to indulge, at least for the time being.