Sunday, August 16, 2009

langley at two months

dear little boognish,

last sunday you turned eight weeks old, and your grandparents were here to witness it. i swear, in just the one week they were visiting, you managed to become a completely different baby than the week before. you’re smiling on purpose more often, you’re cooing, and sweet jesus, are you gaining control of that bobble head of yours. we barely have to support it anymore - you just wobble it all around like a little champ. it’s incredible. we even started putting you in your bumbo, although we have to keep our hands at the ready in case you decide to try to whip your head around a bit too much.
a few days after your two-month milestone, we took you out on the lake on a pontoon boat. with malichai. and five adults who were drinking alcohol. i know! we are crazy. about five minutes in, we thought we’d made possibly the worst decision of our lives, but once we got out on the open water, you seemed pretty cool with the whole situation. there you were, just hanging out on a boat in your diaper, lounging in your bassinet and taking bottles from whoever wasn’t swimming with the dog at the moment. your dad took you into the lake with him, although thankfully he didn’t try to make you swim. but you seemed to enjoy getting your feet wet and having water dripped on you a bit. later, you even let us go to a restaurant and eat lunch without making a scene. you were truly a great little traveler, which stands to reason considering your mother’s childhood and the fact that you were forced onto several cramped planes, including some rather scary turboprop planes, while you were cooking in the womb just so your mama could go see a band play in virginia.
the past few weeks, you have grown increasingly interested in the ceiling in general and ceiling fans in particular. your grandpa decided this must be because you are an alien from a planet far away where ceiling fans are your gods. whenever you would start to fuss, grandpa would just carry you into the living room and point out the fan, and there the two of you would worship for a good half hour. i think maybe grandpa’s been hanging out with your dad and me a bit too long, making up ridiculous back stories like that. i can’t even imagine the things you will try to tell your classmates and teachers someday. i have a feeling we might spend a lot of time in parent-teacher conferences trying to explain why our daughter told susie that her barbie doll was once a taiwanese hooker with a major heroin addiction but later went on to teach blind lepers how to make lace doilies for aged carnies in retirement homes. i hope those teachers have a great sense of humor!

ps - you’re wearing some of your six-month clothes already. please stop growing up so fast!