For me, that’s an easy one. As Baby’s personality has begun to emerge, I feel like the lead singer of Aerosmith has moved in with us. Wild man, bachelor rocker antics abound.
* He can trash a room in seconds. Every square foot of our home is strewn with toys, Tupperware, chewed-up newspaper, mystery food, whatever Baby can get his little paws on and fling with a vengeance.
* He wails and shakes his head, as if in a drunken frenzy. Alarming, when one of his previously charming traits was his utter lack of sound.
* He bites. So far, only my elbow, shoulder, and chin have fallen victim, which makes me laugh. I’ve since read this is precisely the wrong parental reaction since this encourages nibbling humans.
* He stays up all night. So far this week, he has woken up regularly at 1, 2, 3, 5, and 6 in the morning. Sleep training seems to have made nighttime sleep worse, if you can believe it (though naps have improved). I think we did it wrong by being lax in our approach, so I am attempting to start the whole process over again tonight. Yay!
* He’s a judge on American Idol. Ha ha. This part is obviously not so true, but if it were, I would be J. Lo and Husband would be Randy “Dawg, I like you, but that was a little pitchy” Jackson in this scenario. I think that’s wholly fair.
While Husband doesn’t actively think of comparing Baby to celebrities the way I do, he does refer to Baby as â€œEd Asnerâ€ on occasion. This is based on the noises Baby makes in his sleep. Husband always cautions, â€œDonâ€™t wake up Ed Asner,â€ which cracks me up.
P.S. Baby has begun to walk. (Eeek!)
P.P.S. Formula smells disgusting. Husband said it smells like Old Cheese, I say it smells like Dog, this other dad from day care says it smells like Wet Dog. Clearly, Wet Dog is the winner.