Baby diary: 41 weeks

 Well, as everyone warned me would happen, Alan has come down with a cold. Actually, I may have caught it before he did, in that I had a mild sore throat and sinus blockage for the past couple of days -- hard to differentiate from my typical allergy issues. Alan has a runny nose and an off-on cough/sneeze and not much appetite except for breast milk. But he seems cheerful enough, and I don't feel sick either. I'd planned on keeping him home Friday anyway so hopefully by Monday it will have blown over.

Have met baby #4 in Alan's class, Z., who has a forcefully skeptical eyebrow. Alan is still crying at drop-off, but when I return to pick him up he's now playing happily with the others. He hasn't napped for a second there, though. Both his educator and I think it'll be a tough transition, since he demands breast milk before going to sleep.

What else is good? He's unlocked a bunch of abilities, which is always fun. He can now:

• Crawl on hands and knees, as opposed to army crawl
• Kneel/sit back down from standing
• Stand while holding on with one hand only, or stand while pulling on my leg
• Drop a ball in his funnel toy
• Drop [object] in [container], more generally, though he hasn't found this to be particularly intriguing 
• Occasionally unscrew container tops
• Open and close drawers
• Do "eensy weensy spider" fingers with help

To my guarded surprise, he has not tossed everything out of a drawer, nor has he caught his fingers and hurt himself, although he is constantly opening and closing the ones within reach and removing non-toys to play with or chew on. The bigger issue is that he overturns light furniture and can already reach to the edge of the dining table. I've banished two side tables and some plastic stools.

An even bigger issue is that he still bites, with great intentionality and hard enough to break skin, when he doesn't feel like his wants are being addressed. :P My family doctor said to make my distress theatrical, so as to play on his mirror neurons, but truth be told I can't pretend to be sad and hurt -- I get angry and fume coldly. Tonight he took a chunk out of the top of my breast and I snapped at him hard enough that he understood it had Gone Wrong, for once, instead of laughing at my reaction. Once we made up I fancied he seemed sorry, though that could be wishful thinking.