Today, like the past two days, was filled with lots of naps. That's a good thing, even though - for whatever reason - I'm still tired as heck. Today, The Boy took a nice, long morning nap (from 7:10 until 8:45), a mid-morning nap (from 11:20 until 12:15) and a catnap midafternoon (from 2:30 to 3:10, when my wife got home from school). The good thing is that he ate more today for me than he did yesterday: he had an apple slice and a few nibbles of rice cake with breakfast, a bottle at 10, some more apple, some chicken and some rice pasta at 1:30, another half bottle at 2:10. Dinner with my wife & me.
The trick that we all need to learn from the baby is this: when you're not hungry, don't eat. Period. If The Boy isn't hungry, there is no force on G-d's green earth that's going to get him to ingest food or milk. I wish we all were able to remember that more often; I've gained about 15 pounds since the start of the school year. Granted, much of that is due to the fact that I've added a hundred pounds to my max bench press, with corresponding increases to the rest of my exercises, but some of it is due to the fact that I'm less physically active during the day.
Famous last words. You know that The Boy is going to be the second coming of Bart Allen. He's going to have me sprinting around the house, trying to prevent him from taking a header off of the second story balcony or flushing Daddy's iPod down the toilet.
But, I digress.
This evening, The Wife & I took The Boy to her final concert of the year. I dropped them off at school, taught a clarinet lesson nearby, then went back to hold the baby during the performance. It was a good performance, and The Boy was an absolute delight. He watched the people around him and was particularly fascinated by the small children that were running around. He watched the stage, sometimes, mostly when my wife spoke over the microphone. Afterwards, we stopped at the diner to get some dessert.
I don't know why we go to this particular diner at night. It's remarkably bad service at night. For breakfast, the service is great - fast and attentive. At night, not so much of either. It took forever to get a waitress to take our order (and the baby was growing fussier by the moment, because it was 9PM - the second consecutive night that he was out WAY too late) and longer to get our drinks. I hate not getting a refill on a cup of decaf.
But, I digress.
The Boy was quite good at the diner, even considering how tired he was. He was a real trooper; the first half of our visit, he stayed with one of us and played with a trumpet toy, his sippy cup and a spoon. (Another digression... Juliana Hatfield is playing on the iPod. Ugh. One of my wife's CDs... her taste in music as a teenager was abysmal.) He got fussy, so my wife fed him. That's a real trick in a diner booth, let me tell you. Afterwards, he never really calmed down, but he wasn't embarrassingly loud.
I wonder what instrument he'll play, later on? I wonder if we'll start him on Suzuki violin lessons? piano lessons? Some mix of both? I'm interested. He'll play an instrument through the end of high school; that's kind of mandatory. I wonder if he'll get our musical talent?
meh. It's late, and I'm tired. I'm going to bed.