Family

Mostly stuff about my own family, but if you’re interested, feel free.

Well it’s been too long since a crib sheet went to press (or to “press send” at any rate).

Most of you getting this already have a pretty good idea how our marathon trip went but if you don’t…it went fine, thanks. We all got along well. Isaac was a trooper generally and it was fantastic to see the grand parental units in Florida and Colorado.

Isaac is grumbling his was through the arrival of molars but especially with a little ibuprofen on board still dazzles us with sweetness on a regular basis. He is very, very close to walking without help and I suppose we should savor this golden brief moment before we have to run our butts off for the next several years. What happens is that after acting very cautious about walking or standing alone he suddenly just seems to forget to hold onto anything at times. Just the absence of any support makes him look at those moments, more grown up.

He knows many many more words that he can say. He absorbs books like there was something in them that might explain everything and so we keep delving into the mysteries of books like “Go, Dog. Go!” and especially any picture and word books that touch upon his favorite subjects. He grabs a book out of the pile (they didn’t start in a pile but they end up there every single day – life with a baby is like making those Tibetan sand paintings) and waves it at us insistently saying something like “Yagadi!” Which apparently means “Your king commands you. Read!”

The Isaac Hot and Not list:
Hot: Buses, birdies, kitties, cars. planes, doggies, playing.
Not: Molars, vegetables, denial of any whim no matter how small, falling.

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Well…I’m all at sea. I don’t know where I left off but I know it was a while ago.

Isaac is Six feet tall and taking pre-med at UW.OK not quite, he’s fat and small and still a baby though a big strong smart one.

As my earlier email to most of you this week mentioned, the word “birdie” is filling in for well, all the other words. It could be summed up by this phrase: “If you don’t have something birdie to say, don’t say anything at all.” (Except bye bye and cat).He is still using his parental slave units to hold his hands while walking across open rooms but he is round pink lightning along walls, off couches and beds and after rolling toys and cats.Some of the cool stuff I could tell you doesn’t fit well into anecdotes because it’s about the little things he notices by listening and looking and the ways he tries to communicate. No example really rates a story to you (I have some self respect left) but he is more observant and involved and relating in deeper ways.

When he was really an infant and he put his head down on my shoulder it was sweet but it meant he was going to sleep. When he does it now it means “you’re my person” and it is to die for. He’s very grumpy when he’s grumpy and he’s very sweet when he’s sweet. We play “I’m Gonna Get You” and he laughs and squeals with a purity of joy that makes me feel less cynical about life, the universe and everything.Here’s to you all

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That’s what he has turned into. A little shiny pink and golden monkey.
Life is a series of wild workout sessions involving getting up and walking (along things or with adult hands) and sitting down and crawling at speeds approaching 30 mph.
Isaac’s list of things to do today (and everyday)

  1. Mommy’s papers must be rifled: They are strangely flat, smooth and complete.
  2. Cat dishes must be checked for interesting surprises
  3. Everything on the floor must be tasted
  4. Attempts to reach the cat box must continue (What is so special that Mommy keeps it all for herself?)
  5. Touching electric outlets makes parents run and scream. What else can they do? Possible flight or dancing?

He is very bright and sweet. He isn’t that sweet while teething but who would be? Interesting vocalizing; he calls me (and other things) “Danya” adding this odd “ya” to various sounds. We think he may be Russian.
He impressed the heck out of us by learning something very interesting. He had a tendency to try to plunge head first over the side of anything he was on and wanted off of. This scared me and I would stop him and rotate him around and slide him down feet first till his feet caught under him and took his weight.
Yesterday he did this all by himself. We applauded and told him how smart he is and he applauded too and looked thrilled!

Projects: I am trying to teach him to howl like a wolf. My dream scenario is this: He is at daycare and another parent who doesn’t know him well comes to pick up their kid. Following some internal gut sense of timing Isaac tilts back his head and comes out with a long haunting blood chilling howl.

Yours for good mental health,
Hugh

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 Boy is insane.

Thinking process seems to be “Must get up! Can’t get up. WhAAA. Good. Big Monkey holding me up. Must walk! Can’t walk! WhAAAA.What’s that on floor? Yummmm…Styrofoam.To hell with stupid toys, where are the heavy sharp things?”
Incredible new skills crawling squirming changing from sitting to lying down. He’s pretty much break dancing all day. Pappa is frazzled, as baby charges randomly around Momma’s house suddenly looks like The Zone of Death.
Sometimes he gets tired and pauses to look up as if to say “What in the world is happening to me?”

He waves. He says Hi. Mostly when we’re just hanging around.

Love to all.
Hugh

 

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Isaac is a big healthy boy at 22 in. long and nearly 20 lb.

He is still struggling to crawl even though he now often succeeds at moving forward with strange worming undulating motions or a maneuver I can only describe as a kind of “Last Scene of The Bruce Willis Movie Body Drag” where the elbows carry him painfully forward. The whole thing seems to strike him as disturbing and he looks at us like callous bystanders who would help if they had an ounce of humanity left.
He is doing a very annoying (though understandable) thing – he holds his arms up and open to me like “Daddy I need you” and when I pick him up leans his body where he’d like me to take him. He’s basically driving me like a Segway. It looks he needs Daddy comfort and then it turns out he’s just hailing a cab. Babies are diabolically clever manipulators.

He’s more truly here all the time – and that’s sort of the scary thing. We have to watch what we say and do more. The cat starts to destroy the couch and I yell with this big voice he hardly ever hears and I look down to see this tender little face big eyed, looking at me like I’m a little scary (picture Cindy Lou Who asking “Why are you taking our Christmas tree Santa Claus, Why?”). Yikes.

Love to all,
Hugh

 
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