I know, you've all been asking yourselves, What Has the Cub Been Doing? You've been losing sleep, made mistakes on the job, you're not eating properly, and all because you're on edge, wanting -- no, needing information about Tallahassee's newest addition to the beau monde. Suffer no more, my chickens!
He's developing definite opinions about the way the world should be, and learning to express them. He's also learned to enjoy the sound of his own voice, which sounds remarkably like a peacock shrieking, or perhaps a joyous pterydactyl. I have not reproduced this sound here -- I'd be buying all of you new speakers if I had.
He likes being on his belly these days, and does manymany pushups before flinging himself with great abandon to his back. He can actually locomote through rolling, which means that he thwacks himself regularly on furniture.
He loves mirrors, but isn't vain at all.
His favorite place to be is (still) standing up in someone's lap, where he rocks and stomps in a manner reminiscient of Steve Martin's "I got rhythm" in The Jerk. He really wants to be let loose to run around, but forgets that he lacks the skill to do so. Soon enough ...
He's starting to show an interest in food other than mother's milk, but fortunately can't get it together to reach, grasp, and bring food to his mouth. I'm determined to wait til the six month mark before he has his first taste.
He likes to grab faces now, so his father's beard is the bomb! Makes an excellent handle. His father is also Chief Jungle Gym, and Preferred Yack Target.
He can aaaaaaaaalmost sit up, and is fascinated by the computer screen (go figure).
He laughs out loud! (His very first real laugh was at his father's duck voice).
He appears to be teething, and the endless river of drool has begun to flow. (I know, those of you without kids really didn't want to know that. I swear, there will be no discussion of bowel movements.)
That is all for now. You may resume your adoration.
Pamela
