More people are saying that Owen looks like his mom, and I can see it now. His mouth and chin in particular look like her, although he has my eyes. His nose is hard to tell just yet.
I’m amazed it took me this long to realize, but his huge jaw-cracking theatrical yawns are also something he got from his mom. I didn’t tumble to it until I saw her yawn and put it all together, but it’s definitely her yawn, down to the last bit.
He doesn’t like it when I sneeze. I gave a really loud sneeze once while holding him and it freaked him out. He still sometimes gives me a baleful look and a pout when I sneeze, especially if I’m holding him or he’s on his change table.
He’s recently started using a soother, now that we’re past the six week mark. It does a good job of calming him down when he has to gather his thoughts and being able to suckle on something will help. He doesn’t want it all the time, though, which is good.
He loses it a lot though. My lovely wife has taught him to put his hand up to it to keep it from falling out, which he does surprisingly often. Every so often he accidentally knocks it out while doing so, since his fine motor control isn’t really there yet, but he’s trying.
The other learned behaviour he’s showing is lifting his legs when he needs to get something passed. We sometimes help him pass gas or whatever else is troubling him by picking up his legs while he’s on his back and lifting them up, squeezing them in, and moving them around. It helps shift the gas bubbles around to make him more comfortable. He’s started lifting them up himself now when he’s feeling uncomfortable, hoping it’ll help, or maybe signalling us that our intervention is required.
One of the side effects of Owen’s increasing visual range and interactivity is the fun game of “guess what I’m staring at in a captivated way”. Usually, it’s a monkey. In his nursery there is a monkey over his change table, which I’ve discussed before. There’s another which hangs over his crib and there’s a brown box with a monkey face on it that also draws his attention.
The one non-monkey object in his nursery that he finds fascinating, aside from Fan, is the pig painting. My mom painted me a picture of a pig and I’ve put it up in the nursery and Owen really likes it. When he’s looking in that direction and he gets all giggly, it’s a safe bet that the pig painting has caught his eye.
Also, turning on the fan is now a guaranteed way to get a laugh. Fan continues to be amazing.
He laughs a lot now. Sometimes it’s because he’s playing in his play area, making crinkling noises with his feet and kicking at its posts to make the toys move. Other times, it’s just because. Sometimes when he’s falling asleep he’ll laugh at me, like my efforts to put him down are hilarious, but always in a gentle way.
One thing I've always done when I see him is to make a face, opening my mouth wide, as if in surprise. He does that to me when he sees me now, sometimes, unprompted, like it’s a code that we share.
The other day I went to a halloween party dressed as Doctor Who. (“Oh,” people said, “you bought a light-up sonic screwdriver for your halloween costume?” “Um,” I reply. “Yeah. For the costume.”) I was keeping Owen occupied until we got him into his car seat, and when we did, he was giggly and laughing. My lovely wife made a comment about how I was looking pretty funny, wasn’t I, and Owen abruptly stopped laughing and gave her the stink-eye. He was completely unimpressed with her for quite a while. Not cool making fun of the Doctor Who costume, mom, he seemed to say. Not cool.
I’m amazed it took me this long to realize, but his huge jaw-cracking theatrical yawns are also something he got from his mom. I didn’t tumble to it until I saw her yawn and put it all together, but it’s definitely her yawn, down to the last bit.
He doesn’t like it when I sneeze. I gave a really loud sneeze once while holding him and it freaked him out. He still sometimes gives me a baleful look and a pout when I sneeze, especially if I’m holding him or he’s on his change table.
He’s recently started using a soother, now that we’re past the six week mark. It does a good job of calming him down when he has to gather his thoughts and being able to suckle on something will help. He doesn’t want it all the time, though, which is good.
He loses it a lot though. My lovely wife has taught him to put his hand up to it to keep it from falling out, which he does surprisingly often. Every so often he accidentally knocks it out while doing so, since his fine motor control isn’t really there yet, but he’s trying.
The other learned behaviour he’s showing is lifting his legs when he needs to get something passed. We sometimes help him pass gas or whatever else is troubling him by picking up his legs while he’s on his back and lifting them up, squeezing them in, and moving them around. It helps shift the gas bubbles around to make him more comfortable. He’s started lifting them up himself now when he’s feeling uncomfortable, hoping it’ll help, or maybe signalling us that our intervention is required.
One of the side effects of Owen’s increasing visual range and interactivity is the fun game of “guess what I’m staring at in a captivated way”. Usually, it’s a monkey. In his nursery there is a monkey over his change table, which I’ve discussed before. There’s another which hangs over his crib and there’s a brown box with a monkey face on it that also draws his attention.
The one non-monkey object in his nursery that he finds fascinating, aside from Fan, is the pig painting. My mom painted me a picture of a pig and I’ve put it up in the nursery and Owen really likes it. When he’s looking in that direction and he gets all giggly, it’s a safe bet that the pig painting has caught his eye.
Also, turning on the fan is now a guaranteed way to get a laugh. Fan continues to be amazing.
He laughs a lot now. Sometimes it’s because he’s playing in his play area, making crinkling noises with his feet and kicking at its posts to make the toys move. Other times, it’s just because. Sometimes when he’s falling asleep he’ll laugh at me, like my efforts to put him down are hilarious, but always in a gentle way.
One thing I've always done when I see him is to make a face, opening my mouth wide, as if in surprise. He does that to me when he sees me now, sometimes, unprompted, like it’s a code that we share.
The other day I went to a halloween party dressed as Doctor Who. (“Oh,” people said, “you bought a light-up sonic screwdriver for your halloween costume?” “Um,” I reply. “Yeah. For the costume.”) I was keeping Owen occupied until we got him into his car seat, and when we did, he was giggly and laughing. My lovely wife made a comment about how I was looking pretty funny, wasn’t I, and Owen abruptly stopped laughing and gave her the stink-eye. He was completely unimpressed with her for quite a while. Not cool making fun of the Doctor Who costume, mom, he seemed to say. Not cool.
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