10-Month Progress Report

Lately Jack has been complaining that his blog has focused more on style than on substance, relying more on his innermost thoughts than on his child development. So, here's his latest progress report:

I haven't officially uttered my first word yet, but if you say "uh-oh," I will say "uh-oh." When I pitch my Cheerios, or my spoon, or my drink cup, my bib, my toy, or a soggy bagel over the side of my high chair, I may say it too. I was trying out "dadadadadada" for a while, but I'm tired of that; "uh-oh" gets me out of some tricky situations.

Currently, I have five teeth--two incisors and one bicuspidlateral incisor on top, two incisors on the bottom. Their sharpness combined with the clamping power of a pair of Vise-Grips means that the 'rents have learned not to stick their fingers in there. Who wants a big finger in their mouth anyway? Tooth number six is almost through; it hurts like a mother.

I've learned to crawl on hands and knees, not just my belly; it's my preferred mode of motivation. I'm already the fastest crawler in the house, but that's not saying much. No, I'm not ready to walk yet; I'll let you know.

I have quite a bit of fine, brownish-blond hair (it looks most blond right after a bath). It curls in the back; Pop gave the hair above my ears a trim with the clippers a couple weeks ago.

I loathe that freakin' changing table. Restricted movement, cold wipes applied to my sensitive areas, getting turned this way and that--potty training can't get here soon enough. I make them pay for putting me on it, though.

I like to beat on the cat--or suck on its fur. I mean, I like to kiss the cat. Hey, what can I say? The cat takes it most of the time; he knows who's in charge around here.

I like to get up early most days--like, 5:30 am. I also try to get a little workout in at 2 or 3 am, too. Sleep is nonproductive time.

The menu varies among the usual machine-softened meats, veggies, and fruits. I prefer squash, carrots, yogurt, peaches, and bananas, but if I stand in front of Mom during dinner, I'll get a bite or two of some of the weird stuff she's eating.

I'm practicing an open-mouth kiss, but I'm not terribly proficient at placement. It might be on your nose, your chin, or your neck. You get the message either way, no?