Just when I opened my big, fat mouth and said to The Wife that we have a reasonable expectation that The Boy will sleep until 5 o'clock in the morning... it's 3:45, and I'm awake with him. He's got all the energy in the world, on his Jumperoo making lots of noise and going absolutely nutso. The cool thing about it, as I watch him, is his wonderful ability to stay focused on The Musical Daddy, no matter how crazy he gets; and his ability to keep his head rock steady without leaning on stuff. He also understands things like waving bye-bye, because when I waved at him, he smiled and bounced. He's not waving yet, but I think he understands it. He's also drooling up a storm - does that mean he's teething?
Lord, he's huge. I mean, really, really big. It wasn't that long ago that he was a very portable size - under ten pounds, under two feet long. Not anymore. He's wearing mostly 9 month clothing right now, as he approaches month #4 of life. I said to my wife last night that I can start to see the shape of his real face already, start to see how he'll grow into the man he'll eventually become.
(I'll still whup his little bootie, even when he's bigger 'n me. That's just life. Daddy fights MUCH dirtier.)
(Please don't take that to mean that I beat my kid. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Just trying to break away from the maudlin with a little joke.)
Tomorrow's a big day - teaching a couple of lessons up north, followed by Christmas carols at the veteran's hospital in Lyons, NJ. It'll be a lot of fun, but it's a lot of work. I think I have another 45 minutes or so before I trade off with The Wife and let her take care of this current incarnation of Tigger.
It HAS been a long time since he's done this - been so active so early in the morning. I hope this isn't the start of a new habit.