Lord, What Fools These Parents Be!

He smiles!!

Daniel here. I am now 8 weeks old, and I suppose things are going well. My favorite books are A Tale of Two Cities and War and Peace…ha ha!!! Just kidding. Actually, I much prefer Moo, Baa, La La La! Mommy reads it to me and makes such funny sounds. It is quite amusing!

Things in my house had been going along swimmingly, and I could see the smugness on my parents’ faces that they thought they had me figured out. I interpreted that as a challenge and decided to shake things up. Instead of eating every three hours, I decided to eat only 2 ounces every two hours. Oh, and let’s not forget the “fussiness” I developed during feedings. I chuckled as I saw Mommy almost pulling her hair out to figure out what was going on. As the piece de resistance, I began staying up after my 7 am bottle instead of going back to sleep. Poor Mommy! I could see these dark smudges under her eyes, and I felt a bit bad about keeping her up, so I threw her a bone after a few days of this new behavior and started cooing and grinning at her. She seemed to like that a lot.

Daniel humors mommy on his play mat

Speaking of expressions, Mommy and Daddy like to get right in my face and make these weird faces and sounds. It is so amusing that it makes me smile and laugh. Really-how could I not smile and laugh when they are making these ridiculous faces at me! The parents really, really like those expressions, so I like to make them happy. Nothing like a full grin and coo while they change a stinky diaper!

Sometimes in the afternoons Mommy will put me on a mat with dangling…things. I think they are animals, but I’m not completely convinced. Mommy seems to want me to do something with the dangling things, so I’ll humor her by not crying and coo for a few minutes before melting down. Maybe one day I’ll understand what to do.

I've got your chin, daddy!

This week Mommy and Daddy started a bedtime routine for me. They change me into my sleep attire (a t-shirt and swaddle), help me say goodnight to the house, and read stories to me in the rocking chair in my room. Typically three-four stories. It’s nice. I fuss a bit, but I settle down. I like to hear them read to me.

I overheard Mommy refer to me as the “Tiny Dictator” in the last few days, and I like that. It seems appropriate. They dance to my bidding, and it amuses me.

I think I’ll keep them.