Eight Months Strong


At almost eight months, Baxter is comfortable in his size 18-month sleepers (see ‘€˜loungewear‘€™ in previous post). Granted any outfit is snug around those rotund thighs, short of our Mounties’€™ riding breeches, but at least he has some breathing room. He can sit up without being flung back under the tension his outfit used to generate. I swear he will have tremendous core strength. In his previous outfits, he would sit up only to have the back of his collar warp down to his shoulder blades. He was like David Baxter (The Incredible Hulk) in a constant, semi-angry state.
Speaking of semi-angry: what I thought was a brief, cute trend has now become a refined communication skill. Baxter’€™s revving hands (simulated motorcycle driving) were initially combined with a quick, excited pant. The pant being my favourite, it is irregular with a hint of vocal tone. The resultant sound resembles that of a baby in a room walled with lactating breasts’€”bliss.

But now Baxter is using this expression to cover scenarios beyond that of straight-up excitement. Sure, rev a little before getting picked up, that’€™s cute. All right, some revs when you’€™re done in your silly saucer’€”perhaps you’€™re excited about what’€™s next. No wait, now revs are less ‘€˜share the excitement’€™ and more ‘€˜change it up mister!’€™ Now he must accelerate from this place or that. Away! And where are the cute panting sounds? Replaced with a whining and obvious need for environmental change’€”or worse, a change in the company he keeps.

On the bright side, it’€™s a step closer to holding his arms out to be picked up. As a new parent, some of the payoff is in the affection (or desperate need) your baby demonstrates (is that so wrong?). So I foresee a future where Baxter’€™s core is strong and arms are outstretched, wrists wriggling, for me. Just me.


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