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Posts Tagged ‘baby antics’

What is it with kids and hair?!

The Goosh has an inexplicable relationship with my hair. He loves it. He loves to hold it. To tug at it. And even to munch on it.

When I hold him in my arms, the first thing he reaches for is my hair. He uses it to hold on to me. And if I dont react, he’ll tug and pull until I scream.

When asleep, he’ll snuggle up to me and reach for my hair. He’ll even climb up the pillow (in his sleep) and pull a tuft of my hair into his mouth. He finds in strangely comforting.

And he loves to play with it while I’m feeding him.

It doesnt matter one bit that I went and got it cut real real short. A barely there kinda hair cut. Just about reaches my ears. HD was horrified when he saw it. But the lil Goosh, Mama’s boy,  still loves my hair with undying devotion.

Oh, and his other fetish – labels. He’s already label conscious. He lurves eating the darn things. The labels/tags on the pillows, the sheets, his soft toys, my clothes. On anything and everything. He digs into every corner, every piece of fabric, every toy, to find the labels. All shapes, colors and sizes. No discrimination!  Gah.

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[Started on 6th July]

Dear Goosh,

Today you are 8 months old, my dear adorable lil brat. And to celebrate, you’re up early, wide eyed and ready to go. Where, I dont know. And you give me that lovely huge grin of yours that completely melts my heart. Except that it’s toothless no more. There’s a spec of white there. On your upper right jaw.  The little bump has been irritating you no end the last few days. But today, of all days, your first tooth decides to pop out. And you are up and jumping to celebrate. We roll around. We jump.We play. We laugh.

You manage to find all odds and ends and sneak them into your mouth. No matter how watchful I am. Today I found you munching away at some paper. I stick my hand in to pull it out – only to be bit into by yet another new tooth. There’s a sharp small piece making its way up from the lower gum too. With all the fuss over the upper teeth, somehow we never noticed this lower one working its way up.

My my, 2 at a go!!

I feel a bit sad … no more gorgeous toothless grins…my little baby is no longer so little.

We put on some music and we sway. Only you are more interested in the CD player than the music itself. You love the way it lights up, in that neon blue light. You love to watch the spinning CDs. And obviously, you love to play with all the buttons on it.

We sit down for our daily breakfast ritual. You MUST ‘eat’ whenever I do. You make a dash for my spoon, your bowl, the table and everything else. You twist and turn and climb on the chair. You spew out whatever I feed you. You think its a fun game. You prefer eating the back of the chair. And my hair. And in between all that, I manage to eat my breakfast.

You’ve invented another new game of late. You stick your hand into my mouth and wiggle it around. That makes you happy. And you smile. Then you move your fingers over my teeth feeling the sharp edges and giggle with glee. I cant quite figure out this game, but it makes you happy. And we play.  V convenient game for me to start when you get cranky.

I find you pawing away at the carpet with intense concentration, I cant see what it is. Until I come real close. You have a knack of finding every small piece of scrap or every particle on the floor. On a colorful carpet with a heavy pattern, how you manage to spot every speck of fallen food, every bit of thread..amazes me.

After our last trip you’ve suddenly become an independent big boy. You sit up and play with your toys. On your own. Without toppling over. Ever. When did you learn to do all that?!?! I still remember the time when you first moved your hands about, when you first tried to hold a toy… And the worst part of this is – that you dont need me *all* the time anymore. Nay, you dont *want* me all the time anymore. You like to play with your toys, by yourself. No interuptions from Mommy. Mommy cant join in. I have to just sit there and watch over you. Sad. Weepy. At not being a part.  My role is limited. Make sure you dont wander over to the electrical socket. Make sure you dont try to stand up with something that can topple over. Make sure you dont land with a thud on your bum. Make sure you dont put anything too dangerous into your mouth. Make sure that in all your little boy play, you dont get hurt.

You seem to have my outdoor gene. You love going out. You’ve already figured out how the door is opened. Go anywhere near the door and you make a dive for the handle. If you see anyone going out, you start wailing to go too. You also realise that Dadu takes you out in the evenings, so anytime you see him, you beg to be picked up. And when you want to be picked up, you stick out your arms, hold up your head, and kick away furiously. As if to kick fast enough to fly away. You crumple up your face in an eager-to-please smile. You know how to get your way with us.

Thankfully, your social skills are like your Dad and not me. Anywhere we go, strangers stop to smile at you. And to talk to you. And you reward them all with a most gorgeous smile. They leave with a smile in their hearts, a skip in their walk, just a wee bit happier. And me… so proud of you. You even happily jump over to whoever stretches out their arms to you.

<to be continued>

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Yesterday was the Goosh’s first ever feedathon.  I’m sure most moms are familiar with this event. Where the kids run/crawl a full marathon while the Moms run behind them with a bowl of food.

And the Goosh is quite good at it too. After all, he’s been practising for almost 8 months now. First feeding directly from Mommy, then slowly moving to juices and an all liquid diet that Nani started him on. He didnt particularly like this phase, He used to be quite upset – Why were Mommy n Nani forcing him to lie down and ‘eat’!? How would he ever get to practise the feedathon crawl like this!? He’d wriggle and squirm and try to worm his way out. But they didnt let him. Those 2 women I tell you.

He couldnt be happier when they introduced him to semi-solids. Aah. Things were moving well. He was happy. He practised gulping. And jumping. And wiggling with more freedom. Every chance he got, every break Mommy took, he’d roll over and run away from her lap. With an impish smile, a gleeful grin.

Then slowly he got things to munch. Khichdi and veggies and dal and rice. My, what an assortment of colors. He really loved how they looked strewn all over the floor. But Mommy was playing spoil sport again. Trying to make him ‘eat’ this stuff, giving him no chance to reach out and practise throwing these colorful foods and clanky bowls on the floor.  But that was ok, let her win some of the smaller battles. As long as he won the larger ones. Like sitting up to eat. Hurrraay!!! No more lying down. Yay!!!

Quick learner that he is, he mastered the art of sitting up and eating in little over a week. Yes, the fine, delicate art of sitting erect, opening your mouth and letting a spoon in, and then with a swirl of the tongue, a hurried closing of the lips, pull in the food..Munch at it gleefully, then lean over for more, open your mouth, and let it all fall out. Wow. Doesnt that look amazing. Colorful squishy pattern on the floor, beautiful blobs on Mommy’s clothes, way to go Goosh!

Now for the final steps. Yes, we’re almost there. to do it all together. What all this preperation adds up to. Crawl, play, eat. Each of these fine arts mastered seperately. To be combined in all their glory.

At the stroke of 7, the Goosh was ready. As soon as the first morsel went in, off he went. From one toy to the other, from one end of the carpet to the other. Dropping bits and pieces of colorful food all over. Stopping to restock only, when a huffing and puffing Mommy caught up with him. The Goosh running ahead, decorating the carpet, the floor, his very own clothes and even his hands and legs with all kinds of half munched, half chewed, delightful colorful food. And Mommy, growling and wheezing behind him, with a never ending bowl.

It took him an hour. But the job was done. He stepped back and surveyed his handiwork. Critical inspection. Yes. Yes, it was a job well down. He smiled at himself. Nay, it was a job very well done. He beamed.

So happy was he, that he bounced his way back to Mommy, and asked for more food. And proceeded to decorate her plain ole black track pant with large colorful splashes of food.

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