Tricky baby…

I am so… freaking… tired.

Day five in the “Papa is out-of-town” marathon, and let me just say that Mama is glad tomorrow is the last full day of it, because… cripes (N.B.: I can’t believe that just came out of my mouth. I don’t think I’ve heard anyone use that interjection since the early 70′s…). I am just about used up.

But there are some benefits to being T’s mommy 24/7 right now, not least of which is that he’s decided to do all sorts of new stuff this week. Like really play games with me. And reach out to get stuff he wants from Mama. And get really mad when Mama does not give him what she has, and reach out for it on the table (hey, that’s attention span, and it’s all good!). And help Mama play peek-a-boo by pulling the blanket off of her head. And talk on the phone (he left Papa a voicemail today, mostly consisting of “mmmmboo”). And do a full push-up on his tummy all the time (now all he needs to do is get that little butt up in the air and we’ll have a crawler!). And pick up food and stick it in his mouth. And, well, we’ll count this as something new because I think it’s funny – he’s figured out how to drink from his squeezy toys in the bath, which is kind of funny, even if it’s not very hygienic. And rolling round blocks back and forth to Mama in the high chair, because, hey, Mama can play too.

Oh, yeah, and grabbing crap off of anything with lightning speed. I shall attempt to post a picture of this tomorrow. He’s clearly reached the “watch him like a hawk” stage…

There’s some other stuff too, but I’m too tired to catalogue it.

Unfortunately, this has also been the week for a new level of grumpiness. I suspect some of it is exhaustion (I know it is on my part) and my perception (see the first part of the sentence), but he’s developing a really heart-wrenching cry when he decides he’s grumpy, and it’s wearing me down I’m sure I’ll see it differently once I have enough time to, you know, use the bathroom without someone wanting to be held.

I know who he got the grumpiness from, of course, and I’ll give you a hint: the responsible party does not have a beard and still happens to share half of his genes. I know that’s an incredible mystery and all, but you can handle it.

Off to hang up laundry so we don’t have to go naked to our class tomorrow, and then… then I will pass out.

PASS.

OUT.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…