Christopher is just like Conor was. He laughs easily and, apparently, when I sneeze, tickle him, or throw him in the air, I am the funniest mother that ever lived. And like Conor, he is not all that interested in movement. Like Conor, when you are a fat baby with a ginormo head, it's hard to actually propel yourself around with your arms and legs. Unlike Conor, Christopher has decided to just lie on the floor and kick his legs like he's trying to swim across our hardwood floors. The good news is that he has advanced from last month when he would kick his legs for a few minutes and then put his head down and sob. Now, he'll kick and perhaps even spin around a bit before he puts his head down to rest a bit and try it again. It's really the only time he gets upset. When I say he's a happy child, I mean that 95% of the time, he's amusing himself with his toys and then looking up at whoever is around, cocking his head to one side and laughing. It's hard not to run over and grab him and kiss him when he does this, so I don't even try to resist.
Bridget, on the other hand....
Well, Bridget makes you work for her smiles. They are absolutely worth the effort because her whole face will light up, but she's not giving them out for free and never giving them to strangers (who usually make her scream). And quite unlike Christopher, the child is very, very mobile. She's not crawling yet (THANK GOD(DESS)), but she's creeping her way all over the house. The child is tiny, yet she's cover a space that is proportionately enormous just to see what is there.
She was trying to eat the mirror in our bedroom and so I put her way on the other side of the room to keep her safe. She made a beeline back to the mirror, stopping only for a minute to chew on an extension cord along the way. (A box of new baby proofing supplies arrived today, in case you were wondering) And because she is still drooling so much, we can tell where she has been crawling. Much like a giant slug, she leaves a trail of spit in her wake.
And just today, she started to growl when she crawls. She is still the queen of raspberries and feels free to use them to make comments about everything. But now, she's growling. She's not angry; she's just playing with her voice. But it's a bit disconcerting seeing this extra tiny baby crawling across the floor with a trail of slime behind her while she growls.
Speaking of disconcerting, Conor has started to really blossom into his own person. His own quite quirky person. (He is our child, you know) The latest was his proud declaration that he did not want to poop at school. While Dave agrees that he would not poop at their school, either, Conor when on to share how he will "move his poop back up inside" so he won't poop at school.
Yeah. That's one of those things that you learn about a family member that you care about and still think, "Dude, that's weird." But we shall judge not his poopitude. We've talked to him and his teachers that if he needs to go he should go. But he prefers to poop here in the bathroom he prefers to poop in (versus the other bathroom downstairs). Folks I PROMISE you, we did not put any pressure on potty training.
And then, his teacher overheard him explaining to his classmate about having a new sister "One of the good things about having a baby sister is that your parents love you more because you can be more useful." Dave and I were a bit saddened by that. Does he think we only love him b/c he's useful? No, but still! When we asked him about it, he told us that he told his classmate the good thing about having a baby brother and sister is that you can go to your room and shut the door when they start crying.
I have to be honest with you. Of all the things we would have imagined Conor to say about being a big brother, being loved more because we put him to work and the ability to get away from their crying would have not be on our top 20, even top 30, things we would have expected him to say.
So there. He's not us. Conor is his own little funky, loving, slightly bizarre and completely lovable person. He's really separating and keeping secrets and having his own opinions. And it's really nice. Quirky. But nice.