This morning, our baby monitor, sitting on the bedside table, started to beep loudly.
“What’s going on?” I said to A. Sunlight streamed through the windows.
“He’s paging us!” A. said.
“Mama,” A.’s voice got deeper, “I want my breakfast.”
“Let’s go see,” I said, scrambling out of bed.
I started to walk down the hall. A. said, “Wait for me!”
Sure enough, when we walked into C.’s room, he was holding the monitor in the middle of the crib. He had dragged it from where it was nestled in the corner.
This month has been wild watching C. grow. Everyday, it seems, he does something new. Two weeks ago, while I was changing him, he brought his hands together awkwardly to clap. “Are you clapping?” I said. “Clap, clap, clap.”
He reacted by clapping some more. He watched me while I clapped, then I said, “Your turn!” and he clapped and smiled. Every day since, he’s been mastering his clapping — so that he can hear a sound.
He’s also waving. He’s rolling across the room comfortably.
He’s scooting backwards, slightly. He’s sitting up for 10 minutes at a time. He loves Itsy Bitsy spider and his feet are ticklish. He’s sleeping on his tummy (and he’s almost sleeping through the night — thanks to some painful sleep training). He’s saying, “Dadada, mamama, babababa, boo, and ooo.” Our friend S. said she’ll change her name to Bob so that he says her name first.
And now we probably shouldn’t turn our backs on C. for too long.
When we were in Detroit, I gave him my iPhone to play with as he lay on a big turquoise blanket in the backyard. I turned my back to eat my Sunday dinner at the patio table, and a few moments later I heard a muffled, “Hello? Hello?” Somehow, he had called A.’s mom, who goes by Nonni (Italian for grandma), twice and then hung up on her.
And when my mom and I were in the living room with C., watching the Tigers baseball game, he rolled over to the control box and turned the TV on mute. We didn’t know that he could do that, so we were confused about how the TV lost sound — until it dawned on us.
It’s fun to watch C. explore — not only his environment, but also food we put before him. This weekend, we gave him apricots, peaches and orange tomatoes from the farmers’ market. A. made him lentils yesterday which is the only food so far that he’s hated, and he let us know with loud wails. (He didn’t care much for spinach, either, but he’s a champion broccoli eater).
We also gave him Cheerios in his high chair, and watched him study how to pick them up. He was able to shove a few in his mouth, but he still has to master using his thumb and pointer finger to pinch them. But watching him concentrate, with short stubby legs not even hanging over the edge of the seat, is hilarious and a joy.