Watching Abraham is a never-ending source of fun. At first he had no volition, at all, but here we are three weeks later and he’s already figured out that he has the ability to control his own body. He’s not very good at it, but I can already see some definite human behavior emerging. He’s a good boy.
In the evening he’s usually overstimulated from all the new things he’s learned during the day, so while he feeds he fusses mightily. Sometimes he gets full and doesn’t really know what is going on and becomes inconsolable by Debbie.
I’m an expert, however, at both waking and getting the boy to sleep. Here’s a demonstration of the former:
The latter basically consists of me laying him across my body and letting him hear my heartbeat and look at my face until he’s out like the fat kid in dodgeball. Takes no more than 10 minutes, every time.
I’ve been reading him Robert Bly’s The Night Abraham Called to the Stars and The Silmarillion.
The other day I referred to him as Lord Squirmoculous, and treated him as if he were a commanding alien from an alien invasion force; disguised as a baby, of course. This has been quite fun, and we’ve been running with it. Saying: “Lord Squirmoculous commands x!” and “Your forces are leaving Squirmocula now, sir!” and “If you don’t listen to Lord Squirmoculous, he’ll unleash the Squirmoculizer!” Poor little guy, he has no idea. Heh.