He's a loud creature, this baby of ours.
When we first brought him home he was silent or crying. There was no in between.
But now, he's added quite a few more noises to his repertoire. Like so many other developments in parenting, there's been little in the way of a transition, just plenty of stark change.
His eyes were closed all the time. Now two big, blue saucers stare at me with regularity.
He didn't move and, then, he got a case of the "Jimmy Legs" to match his arms, which also move non stop.
He was quiet and, now, he's not. And, as mentioned, his range of noises is multiplying.
There is, of course, still crying, though there is much less of it. Now, Mrs. Blackwell and I are pretty good at deciphering a legitimate gripe such as being hungry or tired, from the general fussiness.
Wailing remains a popular tool to get our attention. The shrill, ear-piercing awfulness of it is accompanied by his face turning beet-red and conveying an expression of total discomfort. Coincidentally, I tend to take on a similar appearance when he does this.
Happily, he has some fun noises.
There are excited little yelps, a personal favorite of mine. These are typically accompanied by an open mouth, wide eyes and little lines on his forehead to let me know he's engaged.
That said, his attention seems to be held by just three things: people situated about two inches from him talking directly into his face, his bottle and ceiling fans. Moving or stationary, it doesn't matter, fans are a favorite.
To indulge his fascination, Mrs. Blackwell and I have installed an industrial-strength, 15-inch, metal finish, six-blade "Wind Tunnel" brand fan just a foot above his crib. Some family members protested this and said we were "lunatics" but, so far so good. (Just kidding. Just kidding. It's a five-blade fan.)
|What could go wrong?|
So, ceiling fans illicit some quiet noises of what I think sound like wonderment.
There are quiet little "Whaaahss," as he exhales upon being picked up. He knows now to brace himself a bit when he's being picked up, so he lifts his legs and tenses some muscles; when he does this, he also grunts.
He's now also in the habit of talking during feedings as evidenced by the satisfied "Mmuh, mmuh mmuhs," he makes in between draws off of his bottle.
And last night we got a whole new noise.
As he was being held by his Mrs. Blackwell's dad, our little guy let out two, short but unmistakable giggles. Four of us were in the room to hear it so, there's no question it was a giggle.
And while I know there are those who will say, it was just a noise, or he wasn't laughing, I don't care. It was a giggle and, at minimum, a sign (or noise) of things to come.