Here's Thomas's seven-month update, a week late.
Rather than the usual treacle of "oh, he's already seven months! and so cute!" that these posts usually are, I thought I'd share an observation from today's play at Longwood Gardens.
If Kevin and I had any reservation about having a third child, it was that Peter and Lucy are such good friends that any child brought into the family would have to work his way into their relationship. (Really, I never understood how the term "Irish twins" could be anything other than a pejorative until I saw Peter and Lucy's relationship develop.)
(no babies were mallet-ed in the making of this music)
Another reservation: would any third or subsequent children be toted around more like a doll than a baby, given a fraction of the attention and experiences of his older brother and sister? I've seen those poor kids at the zoo, the museum, or the park: strapped in their strollers, pacified with a bottle or a snack, while all attention is paid to the older, verbal, mobile children.*
So today I was happy to see that Thomas was more than eager to join his brother and sister in splashing up a storm in the children's garden. I was glad to let him stick his chubby fingers in the water and try to grab small fountains. I was happy to see him standing with his brother and sister, splashing the way they did, and - oh! - knowing he was doing just what they were.
Yes, happy, even if it meant changing a wet squirmy baby; even if it meant holding him in awkward positions so he could reach the water; and even if it meant his back-breaking body-twisting lurches to grab the water when I'd dared to move him away.
All of this happiness makes me think in renewed interest of #4, but with Thomas's all-night buffet, I think that's a long way off.
Other random Thomas updates:
- Still trying to crawl. He moves forward, but I'm not calling it crawling. He can, however, move himself back to a sitting position, and can maneuver himself toward almost anything within a three-foot radius that attracts his fancy. His crawling is not pretty, not at all, and all legs.
- No teeth, although I swear I feel some coming on the bottom row. Wishful thinking?
- Standing is his favorite position, by far. He'll reach for my hands to pull up if I'm anywhere near him.
- So very easy to tickle and get giggling.
- He's tried and rejected an increasing range of food, including green beans, broccoli, brown rice, and apples. Broccoli may be his favorite. The children always are trying to feed him their food, which is OK when it's rice from their dinner and not so much when it's their pre-sweetened yogurt. His output suggests he's not really ingesting anything other than milk at all, and his ripples suggest that's A-OK with him.
*And who am I to judge parents from a thirty-second encounter? And certainly there's a fair amount of pot/kettle-ness here, too. I just hope to treat my children somewhat equally, and can see how this is an easy trap to fall into.
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