Week 24

Dear Zayde,


This week I learned about food.  Sure, I've been consuming milk for 24 weeks, and that has sustained me well.  Some folks would say it's more than sustained me, given the number of squishy rolls I sport and the fact that I've gained more than ten pounds since the day we left the hospital.  "Real food, it turns out, is much more...hands on.  For a few months, I've been watching my parents and many other adults shove things in their mouths.  What struck me as odd and rather baffling was that unlike when I chew on my toys, the colorful items adults put in their mouths somehow disappear.  I couldn't figure out where they were hiding everything until this week.  As you know, I recently sucked on a piece of apple, which was quite tasty but otherwise uneventful.  This week, during a gathering of some of the female members of my extended family, Bubbi stuck her finger in my mouth, and it tasted very odd.  Mommy said something like, "Did you just feed her hummus?"  I wasn't listening because I was trying to figure out how to make my mouth stop tasting like the desert.  For future reference, I don't like it when food sneaks up on me.

What I do like, I have learned, is bagels.  Twice this weekend, I attended a truly wonderful tradition known as "brunch," and on each occasion, Mommy put a chunk of bagel on my high chair tray.  It was love at first bite.  Bagels are so easy to hold, and they offer both a hard part that feels delightful on my aching gums and a soft part that gets mushy when I suck it.  Little pieces fall off the inner part of the bagel, and I can actually swallow them.  Can you believe it?  I can swallow something other than milk!  (I've also licked a piece of melon and played with some lettuce, but I think it's fair to say that bagels are the greatest food ever created.)  This is the beginning of a whole new series of culinary adventures.  Who knows what tastes and textures await?

Speaking of uses of a high chair, in addition to making it extremely easy to enjoy a bagel, my comfortable and efficient new furniture piece is perfect for testing out my theories about gravity.  I learned that my toys do indeed fall from heights greater than my Bumbo chair, although the satisfying sound they make when they hit the ground is slightly delayed.  Mommy is still fetching my toys when they reach the floor.  She loves bending down and placing them on the high chair's tray.

This week I learned that Mommy is neurotic.  When I woke up one morning with red and swollen bumps on my hands, wrists, and face, she totally freaked out.  She even dragged me to the doctor's office!  I kept trying to tell her I was fine; I didn't have a fever and wasn't uncomfortable, but there's not stopping my mother when she gets that panicked look in her eyes.  The doctor took one look at me and said, "bug bites."  Mommy was relieved and probably felt a little foolish for thinking the worst (hives, measles, foot and mouth disease, etc.), but I told her it's better to be safe than sorry and that I don't mind going to see the doctor as long as there are no needles involved.

Mommy isn't just neurotic about illness, though.  She's neurotic about my sleeping.  Every night, long after I've fallen asleep, she creeps into my room like a cat burglar and quietly gets as close to my crib as possible in order to - you won't believe this - make sure I am breathing.  Sometimes she puts her hand under my nose, but most often she places her palm lightly upon my chest and waits to feel it rise and fall a few times before she makes a little sigh of relief and tiptoes out of the room.  What a loon!  Apparently, my Aunt Jill is similarly (and overly) concerned about her children's breathing patterns at night.  I heard her telling Mommy that until just a few years ago, she was doing the same late night double-checking, and her kids (my cousins) are all what you would call "big kids."  Two of them are already driving!  I don't know what's up with these Mommies.  Don't they have anything better to do in the middle of the night?  Don't they want to sleep?

Speaking of sleep, I learned this week that Mommy was right about the importance of naps.  When I don't take my usual three naps a day (or if those naps are particularly short), I get cranky.  I whine and cry and throw toys and let everyone around me know that I AM TIRED AND VERY ANGRY ABOUT IT.  Please don't tell Mommy that I know she was right.  We wouldn't want her thinking she knows what she's doing.

The most interesting thing I learned this week is that there is a special day just for mothers.  It's called "Mother's Day" because whoever named it was not very creative.  On that day, Mommies get to take naps while Daddies play with babies, and in the afternoon, everyone eats bagels.  Clearly, I'm a fan.

I heard that you and Bubbi are going on a trip, and I won't see you for a month.  That makes me sad, but I will try not to miss you too much and instead focus on the new skills I'm developing so that when we do see each other again, you will be amazed by my growth and prowess.  Bon voyage, Zayde.


Aboard, aboard...the wind sits in the shoulder of your sail,
Your Zelda