Sunday, November 9, 2014

Parenthood.3




Above: my favorite of Baby Leopard's outfits; it's a little romper.

Our new language: The baby swing = the mechanical grandmother. The pacifier = the stopper. The projector screen = the giant pacifier on the wall.


My newest and most frequently worn ring.


Baby Leopard reminds me of these little monkeys (which I've always loved): alert, intense, curious, with big beady eyes in a tiny little face. In retrospect, I should have dressed him up like this for Halloween, except I'm not that into costumes.


I sometimes call him Baby Miley, since he has a long tongue and likes to stick it out. (#1tomatolover: Have they said anything about his tongue? Me: Yes, they've said it's very long. #1tomatolover: Is it going to be a problem?)

Also, the pediatrician says I'm supposed to stop eating dairy to help with Baby Leopard's gas. This is awful. It's what I get for all the ice cream when I was pregnant, I guess. (Also--Francisco's reaction to this: "Does this mean he's lactose intolerant?" No! And pity me, please, not him!)

Also, he got his first shots and melted down a little bit that evening. Turns out, in other circumstances, he never, ever cries, which I didn't realize until he actually did. It made me rather upset to hear him cry and to barely be able to comfort him.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I really do take offense at you comparing my Grandson to a monkey. I hate monkeys.

--Mama Leopard