Rattle Me This

We have been inundating Finneas with a mega variety of rattles: wrist rattles, plastic rattles, rattles in the shape of moose, caterpillars and bugs, keys and cows. I usually wave any one of the given rattles in front of his face and accompany that pepper shaker swish with my own track. And when I'm at that point where my lexicon has reached a whole new level of baby and I'm performing a sing song of helicopter noises and facially contorting to new levels of ridiculousness that I dare not even repeat for myself in front of a mirror or I would sulk in embarrassment, he just stares at me with his big blue peepers and this makes me feel like the most important person in the world. Why - because I am more entertaining than a baby rattle you ask?

And We Rename Him Goliath Fudolf!

Finneas is now 5.5 weeks old and more than 11 lbs and 11 oz putting him in the 97th percentile for his age. Adam is aiming Finn for the 99th percentile, which is easy for him to do since his nutritive powers are null. Anyway, 97th is like winning silver at the Olympics and we mustn't scoff at that! How wonderful to be a giant among the legions of little. And you can see, he is especially huge and intimidating in his polar bear fleece.

Over Thanksgiving weekend we made the trip to the San Juans to visit my Dad and Susan, aka Grandpa Popeye and Grandma Sus. The night before we left, the surface area of our apartment met its match with our packables. I kept going over every item, weighing the necessity of each, until I came to he conclusion that we needed it all - even the bouncy chair. With every trip prior a single backpack between the two of us was sufficient. The addition of one tiny being meant our microvan was replete with everything baby, plus our one little bag. It was a great trip, and even the cloth diapers weren't too challenging. Finneas loves Popeye and Sus and had as much fun as a 5 week old can have. Every burp, fart, gurgle, wink, toe wiggle and dirty diaper was met with compliments and kisses. He played the role of a tiny king. We even put his throne, the bouncy chair, on the kitchen table so he could survey his secondary empire, his first being home, upon waking from naps.

Something funny - the hospital made a slight blunder of Finneas' birth certificate and social security card. Legally our son is Finneas Fudolf Kestler. FUDOLF! Who would ever utilize this odd non-word of a name - Fudolf? And my Grandmother says the same of Rudolf, "poor child, with a middle name like that." But Fudolf is much worse. I'm sure Grandma would agree. Please don't worry, we are getting that "F" replaced with a respectable "R," so that when we say our son's name we don't sound like the Sicilian in Princess Bride. Never mess with a Finneas Fudolf!

And no, we are not getting much sleep. But, yes, we are loving every minute of it! Everyone's been asking.