With our little guy’s first birthday fast approaching, I figured it was about time to shout him out on the old blog. Being the younger sibling can be hard; it’s definitely difficult to claim your fair share of the spotlight when your older brother often writes, directs, and stars in the screenplay that is our life.
But in reality, B more than holds his own and has definitely come a long way in less than a year. I mean, he graduated many months ago from the blob-like newborn/infant stage and is fully mobile and verbal, able to crawl (and almost walk) around and wreak havoc on a surprisingly large scale. He’s grown from an immobile, non-sleeping, crying and pooping bundle of need into a surprisingly fleet, sometimes temperamental, non-sleeping, crying and pooping bundle of need. And you might even say he’s starting to make his mark on the world…quite literally as it were.
You see, the really interesting development with B in the past couple months is that…let me see…how can I put this delicately?
He’s turned into a bit of a miniature Luis Suarez.
And while sometimes, like Luis, his competitiveness and anger drives him to bear his teeth against his antagonists (aka J) when they take his toys, other times it’s more a matter of proximity and availability. You know how you can’t resist eating that cookie if it’s sitting out on a plate, staring you in the face? Well, for B, a dangling limb or a sliver of exposed abdomen is that irresistible temptation. Whatever the underlying reason, things are definitely getting real around here. The other day, J implored, after scampering from the floor to the relative safety of the couch, “Why is he trying to bite me?” I replied, quite sagely I think, “Because he’s a baby and doesn’t know what he’s doing. He bites everything. His toys…” J jumped in to finish my thought, “And peoples. Lots and lots of peoples!”
B’s other new fun and exciting trick is smashing electronic toys and remote controls on the floor in attempt to free the batteries within for potential snacking. Our TV remote has a loose back, so he learned that smashing was an effective strategy and has now extended this plan of attack to a range of talking toys. He’s come a long way I tell you…
And finally, changing B has always been a major challenge (not at all like J, sorry B, get used to that). However, I did stumble across something that did make him stay still for about 10 seconds: just enough time to get the job done. All I had to do was sing a slightly Reggae version of Peanut Butter Jelly Time. To get an idea what this sounds like, think of Rihanna singing PBJ Time if she was male and not particularly good at singing. (If any of you decide to try this technique out, please video tape yourselves and send it to me. Thanks in advance.)
Wow…I’m making B sound pretty rough here. He’s really not and is usually very sweet; except when he isn’t. Anyway, if you’re reading this sometime in the future B, please don’t hate me. Hey, I can’t be sappy all the time.
p.s. Happy Birthday! We love you!