Week 17

Dear Zayde,


On this, the day I turn four months old, I am happy to report another stellar week of learning.  I will share with you my new knowledge in the form of a vocabulary list.

Dog Sitting: Taking care of Grandma's dog, Lenny, while she spends the morning in the hospital.  As you know, she's fine now, but Grandma had a bit of a scare this week when her tongue swelled up as a result of an allergic reaction to a still unknown substance.  When I woke up one morning this week, Lenny was in our living room, eyeing my toys.  (He has toys that squeak, too, but you don't see me trying to chew on someone else's kitty.  Yet.)  We had a generally uneventful day, but I did learn that dogs eat on the floor, much like Mommy does when she's trying to shove breakfast down her throat while sitting next to me as I play and fuss on my mat.  I hope that when I grow up, I don't have to eat on the floor, too.

Parabola: The graphic representation of a quadratic formula, aka a pretty curve.   Did you know that adding a constant value to the equation of a simple parabola (y = x(squared)) will shift it up or down the y-axis?  I think that's pretty darn cool.  Mommy was super excited to share this information with the teenage boy who comes to our house with his large math book and resigned-yet-hopeful expression on his face.  He always says hello to me and smiles to reveal some sort of metal apparatus on his teeth.  When he and Mommy are working with pencils and paper, his mommy takes me for lovely long walks around the neighborhood.  I think this is an excellent arrangement for everyone.

Humidity: Stickiness that attacks you from all directions the moment you leave the house.  Mommy and Daddy warned me about this, and now I know why.  Humidity is the pits.  It makes Mommy sweat and Daddy cranky, and it makes me wonder why we live in a place that is so darn wet even when it isn't raining.  I am told this situation is preferable to a winter full of snow, sleet, and hail, but I am not so sure about that.  I'll have to ask my cousin Jessie what she thinks about living in Michigan as compared to Florida.  She's a college student and therefore knows everything.

Filibuster: Talking nonstop for an incredibly long time so that no one else can get a word in edgewise, even if you have nothing of particular value to say and just really want to hear the sound of your own voice for as long as you can muster the strength to vocalize.  A gentleman in Washington, DC (our nation's capital) performed one of these recently, and I was so impressed by the amount of news coverage it garnered that I decided to try it myself.  During one of our daily walks, I started talking to Mommy as soon as we left the house, and I didn't stop talking until we returned.  In case I haven't mentioned it previously, it takes us just under an hour to circumnavigate our neighborhood.  That means I talked NONSTOP for 55 minutes.  Mommy tried to respond to me, as she usually does because she is polite and an excellent conversationalist, but I talked right over her.  I wasn't about to let her take the floor.  It was my filibuster, and I was going to milk it for all it was worth.  FIFTY-FIVE MINUTES.  I heard through the grapevine (Grandma) that you have been known to achieve far greater feats of uninterrupted speech, be they diatribes or lectures.  Inspired by this, I will continue to practice my verbal skills whenever (while Mommy's on the phone, nap time, 4:30 a.m.) and wherever (in my crib, the car, Walgreens) I feel the urge.

Vaccinations: Torturous stabbing sensations that cause nausea, fatigue, and tremendously bad moods.  I think I mentioned that I encountered these evil syringes two months ago, but to tell you the truth, my memory isn't the most reliable part of my ever-changing brain, so I was unprepared for yesterday's visit to the pediatrician.  It started pleasantly enough.  I was weighed and measured, and I learned that I've more than doubled my birth weight and grew half a foot in just four months.  Mommy made some comment about how lugging around 15 pounds explained the increasing ache in her back, but I'm sure she's just kidding.  I am a delight to lift, carry, and hold for hours upon hours.  The doctor asked Mommy questions about what I can do (roll over, laugh, hold up my head, etc.), and as you know from reading my letters, I've achieved all these milestones, even if I don't choose to repeat them every day.  I was feeling pleased with myself and looked forward to going home and telling Daddy all about what a big girl I am...and then the nurse walked in with those needles.  I'm not going to sugar coat it.  Those shots hurt like the dickens.  Mommy held my hand and told me everything was going to be okay, but I wasn't listening because my thighs felt like they were on fire, and I was busy screaming and crying REAL TEARS.  The abuse didn't last long, but the whole ordeal dragged on throughout the day and night.  I tried eating, but I ended up hurling the contents of my stomach onto the changing table, the boppy, myself, and (of course) Mommy.  I felt hot and cold at the same time.  Mommy kept shoving something in my ear and saying numbers (99.5 was the highest).  Eventually, she gave me some red liquid that did not taste like milk.  I dribbled out most of it, but what I did swallow must have helped the situation because soon thereafter my thighs stopped throbbing, and I was able to eat and sleep in peace. The whole experience was wretched, however, and I made it clear to Mommy that I never want to go through that again.  We have another appointment when I'm six months old, but I'm sure no one is cruel enough to do this to a baby every two months.

Laughter: The sound of happiness emitting from the depths of my soul; extreme giggling.  Mommy bought me a new toy.  It's a ball within a ball, and the inner ball has a bunch of little tiny balls that rattle around.  This toy is the most hilarious thing I have ever seen.  As soon as she removed it from the box and shook it, I started to laugh.  Grandma was holding me, and as I mentioned earlier, she'd had a rough week, so what happened next is understandable.  Mommy kept shaking that ball-within-a-ball, and I kept laughing.  Then Grandma and Mommy started laughing, and that sounded equally hilarious to me, so I laughed more.  Soon Grandma was laughing so hard that the black stuff around her eyes started smearing down her cheeks; she was crying and laughing at the same time.  I thought only babies had intense and confusing mood swings, but I guess I was mistaken.  Laughing is a pleasure, and I plan to do it as often as possible, as long as I am presented with ever-increasingly funny toys, facial expressions, and situational irony.

These are all the words I learned this week.  I hope you are impressed with my growing vocabulary.


Love and Laughs,
Zelda