Yesterday the baby began putting weight on his feet when we dangle him, which makes him some sort of highly advanced genius according to an insert in the cow toy we received recently.
Half a cow smooshed into half a ball cannot be wrong people. Although please note the one customer review this toy has received: according to an anonymous Amazon patron, the cow is not roly poly enough. Perhaps it cannot be trusted in its judgments of genius either.
In other news, Fuzzy has also begun burping like a regular human baby. Up until a week or so ago, he had hoarded his precious precious burps like gold, bestowing them only on the most lucky or ingenious of parents. Practically speaking, this meant he would burp for The Pit maybe 30% of the time, and never for me.
This lack of maternal burping ability caused some issues between The Pit and I, as he insisted the lack of burping was responsible for Fuzzy's gas pains. I mocked The Pit for his "more burps equals less farts" ideas, until we visited the pediatrician and she confirmed his hypothesis. Oh, how bitter it is when The Pit is right about something, yet again. Regardless, I'm hoping that Fuzzy's new-found burping skills mean fewer gas-related crying jags in our future.
While I may have been wrong about burping, my predictions regarding hair loss were spot on: our baby does indeed now resemble a medieval monk from behind:
I'm hoping this stage passes quickly. From the front, he is also bald, but still cute as ever. His eyelashes have either lengthened or darkened in recent days, or possibly both, and his grandmother and I stare at him constantly while telling each other how beautiful he is. It's sickening, really - yesterday I burned a perfectly good quesadilla to a crisp while watching a video of him I had just filmed, live and in person, not 30 minutes before.
4 years ago