Happy Dance

Zephyr said a perfect "yeah" today, and in context and everything. But it was followed by his string of percussive mono-and disyllabic babymumbles, "op. ep. uh-da," so I don't know that it was intentional. He pauses for effect between each word, looking at me, then at the blue cup in his hands.

Today he also danced for the first time, and bless his heart, it was because he was so rapt with joy at the taste of the oatmeal with cinnamon and pears I cooked for him. He had been eating his usual "Mommy doesn't know what to give you, Bubbie" dinner of reheated salmon, sweet potatoes and greens (frozen cubes for the win), and as usual, about midway through dinner he just starts cramming handfuls of food into his eye sockets and nostrils as he rubbed his sleepy eyes and runny nose (I should probably start giving him dinner earlier, but it was only 5:15). Then he started wailing pitifully, reaching out for me. I suffered the flakes of salmon down my shirt and smears of starchy, orange goo in my hair to comfort my sweet baby, and he instantly cheered right up and began chatting at us.

"That's an order!" - Booshie McBossman

He hadn't eaten much of his dinner, and I knew he'd be hungry again soon, so I squatted down to his level and fed him bites of dinner with my fingers. He ate it all up, so I gave him some of the oatmeal that I cooked for his breakfast tomorrow, and he loved it! I passed the pot with the wooden spoon sticking out of it to Scott and Zephyr yanked the spoon out of his hand and just started chomping down, doing that little bouncy happy dance that babies do, holding onto the chair for support. He ate a lot of oatmeal like that, dancing and singing happy syllables to himself and to us.

Last Sunday we got some cheeseburgers from Burgerville. Okay, we got ten of them. They were those tiny kind that they put in kids' meals, and they were having a deal (10 for $10) and I can never resist! Plus they're really tasty and local and guilt-free and all that, so don't look at me like that. I took one of the buns off one and cut it into little bites so Zephyr could have cheeseburgers like Mommy and Daddy (but without all the extra white bread and ketchup), and he was shoveling bites into his mouth happily, until he stopped, let out a little cry, and then started pulling the food out of his mouth with his fingers. He had tears streaming down his cheeks, but then he'd put another bite into his mouth. Then he'd whine and wimper again and pull it out, crying. We couldn't figure out what the hell was going on! Then I realized I'd cut his burger on the same cutting board where I'd cut up a hot red chili just minutes earlier. I tasted one of his bites to check. Spicy. Tongue-biting spicy. Poor baby! Luckily we still had like 5 or 6 cheeseburgers in the bag so I just cut up another one for him and we were all smiles all over again.

You see this face he's making? he does this a lot lately. It reminds me of the face our cat Wumpy makes when he smells something good and stinky. I can't tell if he's being funny or stretching out his gums or what. He does it every night at bedtime, too, it's the strangest thing. When I finish singing my lullabies to him and we turn on the iPod with the Radiohead lullaby music, he makes this exact face at the light of the iPod. Maybe he's practicing his best ballad-singing face for when he becomes a rock star. For now, though, it's just fun to watch him trying new things, faces included. He changes so much every day.