Monday, February 01, 2010

Hibernation and Jubilation

The MVP's Grandad has a desert tortoise.  I'm not sure if he's technically the MVP's Grand-Tortoise or Uncle Tortoise, so we'll call him Gruncle-Tortoise to cover our bases. Every winter Gruncle-Tortoise hibernates, and Grandad stores him in a plastic bin on a shelf in the garage.  (Conveniently the timing is such that Grandad could use the same plastic bin he uses to store the Christmas supplies the rest of the year, though I don't think he's made the connection yet).  Yesterday, The MVP decided to emulate his Gruncle-Tortoise.  He slept for 26 hours straight, awakening just six times and only for the 40 minutes or so it took him to eat.  I just picked a plastic bin from Target in case The MVP does it again. Maybe we can put him away and go camping or something.

We read that excessive sleeping can be a baby's response to a growth spurt.  But The MVP has gained 11 oz in the last week --just passing the 10 lb mark-- so if a growth spurt is just starting then I'm frankly a little scared about what that might mean.  Along with the growth spurt, The MVP is getting absurdly strong (making feeding, burping, and changing ever more difficult). At this rate, The MVP will be able to beat me up in just a few months.

Fortunately, his disposition has become positively sunny of late. Just a few days ago, it seemed he only had three modes: eating, sleeping, or behaving like an injured racoon. If he was awake, he was angry. I should be knocking on all kinds of wood, but three days ago he woke up and just stayed... happy and alert. I know! He was smiling, following our faces, and doing all kinds of stuff he's never really done.

Here I am now... entertain me.

He's also decided night is a good time to sleep (before yesterday, I mean, when he decided that every hour is a good time to sleep).  This has happened just in time.  The other day, I decided I'd better stay home from work, after envisioning the following conversation.

Me:  Honey, I'm home.  Hey, where's the baby?
V-Train:  What baby?

Extreme?  Perhaps.  But when I casually mentioned to V-Train that there's a law where you can drop a baby off at a fire-station, no questions asked, her response was "Until what age?"  But the last three days have been... fun. 

Ok, who are you, and what have you done with our baby?

It's almost as if he's a real, human baby.  His interaction the last few days has been much more sophisticated.  V-Train was so encouraged that she tried to read him a book today, though he seemed less than interested in her chosen tome with pictures of baby faces.   Perhaps he'd prefer something more... dramatic.

But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?

We're almost reluctant to post about this recent turn of events.  Something about counting chickens and blah blah blah.  The MVP follows his own plan, and won't hesitate to make fools of us all.


1 comment:

Suelika said...

Awwww, how cuuute!