Yesterday was Mazin's seven month birthday. When I compare what I typically accomplish in this amount of time and what he has accomplished, well... I look pretty lame. He has mastered so much already--no wonder he needs a nap every three hours. Yesterday he was sitting on the grass, staring down at it and petting it as if it were the fur of an animal, and he found two twigs. He picked up one in each hand and stared at each for a few seconds, and then slowly brought them together to make a light knocking sound. He looked up at me and smiled. In his mind, he had figured out the purpose of these new objects. He did that a few more times, and then turned his attention to the dry leaves just out of reach. Time to lunge!
He does a lot of lunging for things these days. Am I nearing the end of this lovely phase where I plunk him down in one spot and come back to find him still where I left him? I'm afraid so. He clearly wants to crawl. He has the arm and leg motions going, but hasn't figured out that they have to make contact with the ground to actually get him somewhere. He likes to get on his tummy, lift up all four limbs, and make swimming motions in the air. It's pretty cute, but probably a little frustrating for him. He really is figuring it all out, developing opinions along the way. Diaper changing, for example, is no longer considered fun. Not even when tempered with Itsy Bitsy Spider. The high chair, on the other hand, is clearly a preferred perch. He opens wide for the spoon now, probably hoping there will be something more interesting on it than oatmeal and prunes. Not so fast, little boy! I can barely keep up.
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