7-Month Check Update
Referred to as (when not called by actual name): Sun God, but only ironically
Favorite Toy: empty plastic diaper wipe box (featuring characters from Frozen)
Favorite Hobby: mangling his testicles in while in the tub
Favorite Food: Okinawan sweet potato
Sound Most Consistently Uttered: na-na-na-na
Favorite Method of Inconveniencing His Father: breaking through the makeshift barrier in the living room in order to crawl to Abby’s puppy pads in hopes of eating them.
Cole has not yet mastered crawling. He hasn’t even really started your standard conventional crawling. He still relies on his upper body to drag the rest of him across the floor, but it works. He can really move. He’s so quick and so quiet that if Madison and I lose track of him for a few moments, he can easily end up nibbling on Abby’s rope bone or we won’t know that he’s escaped the play area in the living room until we hear the crinkle of Abby’s pee pads under the strain of Cole’s chubby fingers.
He’s become the more talkative of the two babies, though in truth his vocalizations are mostly shouts. It was a close race for his favorite hobby as bashing his balls only narrowly edged engaging in screaming contests with anyone. In fact, Cole’s face lights up when I look him dead in the eyes and start shouting at him. He must not be able to pick out tone yet because it never seems to matter how I yell at him, only that I am. I gesticulate wildly and point at him frequently. It sets him off every time. He kicks with both legs and screams back at me. You know that scene in Billy Madison where Bradley Whitford puts the asparagus in his mouth like fake teeth and makes faces at Sandler, and all Sandler can do is shout gibberish at him? It’s exactly like that and I love it.
Cole’s pretty much eaten everything we’ve tossed his way. He still drinks breast milk from time to time, even though Avery’s decided that she’s no longer a fan. The Sun God hasn’t popped any teeth yet but he frickin’ drools all over every thing like a newly-spawned alien. It’s gross, but he’s my kid, so I just extend my index finger, run it across his chin and cheeks like a squeegee, then whip the wet off my hand.
Right at this moment, though, my absolute favorite thing about Cole is his heel smile. No matter where he is in the living room, all I have to do is shout. “Hey!” I’ll yell. He’ll turn his head to find me. “COLE BOY!” I’ll yell. He smiles at me. Sometimes, though, his eyebrows dive toward the bridge of his nose, his eyes narrow, and he flashes his gums. He looks like a rascal – but only for a split-second. Then his eyebrows correct course and he is once again the sweet, sweet boy that Lynnette has fallen in love with.