The baby has made it clear he’s in a new growth spurt. Far from having an amazing lexicon or masterful charades skills, he just screams and eats a lot, and then one of the parents in the room will run to the interwebs and look up the under-12-months milestones for development. Not the sitting up, rolling over, crawling development, but the non-cognitive stuff like tooth appearance and those aforementioned spurts. Emile’s week 6 and month 3 spurts came a little early, so it’s not surprising we’d see the sixth month dash at 5.5 months. It has me wondering if he’ll grow into an impatient pain in the ass, but then I remind myself that it’s just too soon to tell.
I picked him up yesterday morning and had the sensation that someone had photoshopped my live child to make him 3 percent larger than the night before. His head, hands, shoulders, all of him seemed to take up more space and weigh more. I remembered that the further we are from the core of the planet, the less gravity pulls on us, so I briefly considered taking him to the top of Mt. McKinley and hoping he’d be easier to hold there. Probably the pool at the local YMCA was an easier way to get to the same outcome, however. He’s still about a month away from being allowed into the baby swim class.
I figure he’s got a cocoon stashed somewhere in his crib. It’s invisible and it folds up for easy storage. Maybe it’s one of those infernal objects that adults can’t see, like Snuffalupagus or a gateway to a world of talking dogs, I don’t know. I have my suspicions. He may sense I’m looking for his secret growth chamber, because he distracts me with a coo or a milk bubble. But in moments like last night or the night before, I’m at a sleep-loss-induced disadvantage; I have to try so hard just to ambulate without tipping over, there’s not much else my brain can handle. Those are the moments when I’m sure, upon later reflection, that he has some charm to add more mass and I’m just not finding it.
Sure, he’s eating larger meals and yes, we’ve begun adding pureed food to his diet, but come on. This 5-month-old infant is closing in on 20 pounds. He’s like a lineman in miniature. If he could tackle or block, the NFL would be calling. Too bad for them he’d probably roll over and grab onto his feet instead of dive in for the sack.
We bought him a bumble-type seat this week, the pod-like chair that helps a baby sit upright, even if on their own they could only manage such a feat for a couple of seconds. Emile loves it, acting like he can now hold court (as if he needed a chair for such things). He takes stock of his kingdom and looks quite pleased with himself. Yes, there is my activity pad, hello crinkly flower dangling from a padded bar. And there is my bunny swing, thank you for all of those lovely naps. Oh, hello, mother, did you get your cup of tea today? Court jester, I mean father, I would like to be lifted and cuddled now, thank you.
It’s only a matter of time before he outgrows that chair and demands an actual throne.
Trans/plant/portation 
Aww! I don’t have anything deeper than that to say at the moment.
Heh! I wonder if soon he will be bigger than your kidlet!
Oooooooh Everett, I’ve been waiting to say “I told you so” about the Bumbo seat. He he he he he! (Is it sad that I take such relish in it? Yes, it’s sad, but still quite pleasurable.)
I also loved what you wrote about feeling like someone photoshopped your kid into a 3% larger size overnight. It’s truly AMAZING how quickly they grow in the first year of their live. I try to imagine, as an adult, what it would feel like to double or triple in size in just a year and I can’t conceive of it.
Your postulation about the invisible chrysalis as well as its possible connection to Snuffleupagus is thought-provoking. It sounds quite plausible to me too.
Did we talk about the bumbo seat? I don’t remember!
Snuffalupagus was the best! Now I’m totally racking my brain for all the other cool stuff and characters that are invisible to adults…
I was trying to remember if the whole witch and the wardrobe were kid-only…
I thought you wrote a post about it at one point — something about the worthless pieces of plastic that parents buy for kids… ? 😉
Hmm. It’s possible. When I go through all of my baby content for the baby memoir, I’ll look for it and we can all have a good laugh.
It’s also entirely possible that I’m mis-remembering. I have a mind like a steel sieve.
Steel, huh? So it loses a lot but never rusts?
Hmmm… good thoughts. It’s really just my revised version of “mind like a steel trap”. Maybe I should say a mind like an aluminum trap? (Wait — does aluminum rust?)