As adults, we miss the "interesting" in what we see day-to-day. Thank goodness for infants, who remind us that each body part, nature element, and experience all have one-of-a-kind components to them. This month Caleb has discovered a few of these wonders. Toes. At first I thought Caleb's seemingly instant fascination with his ten little piggies came due
to my removal of his socks on a 70 degree day. We were strollering outside, and I thought he was getting a bit hot--SOOOO, socks off, toes moving, hands touching feet, eyes staring. Throughout the winter and fall, I've struggled to keep those little pieces of baby body covered (probably because my own toes are always cold). But I already know what my feet look like (and even if it were warm right now, I'd intentionally cover my toes due to my partially removed postpartum ingrown toenail). Caleb had only seen his toes during his short 5 minute baths--not enough time for ample observation. But this day was different---30 minutes of uninterrupted toe touch time. The fascination? They're little and in different sizes. Each moves (practically) independent of the other. Shiny squares called nails tip the ends. And, they stay attached when the legs bend the feet into touching range!
Teeth. No, Caleb does not have any teeth yet, and Summit has not bit him yet. This discovery is just a speculation of mine. Now that he's 6 months old, Caleb LOVES to put things in his mouth, including his own fingers (and sometimes hands). I don't know if he likes the way his
gums feel to his fingers or the way his fingers feel to his gums. Either way, his fingers get a completely different sensation when his hands touch his mother's or father's face. Often times, those little hands find their way into our adult mouths---and our pearly whites get the Caleb Touch. Don't you wander in what form babies come to realizations? (Is it like the infants in that silly John Travolta and Kirstie Ally movie Look Who's Talking, where the viewers could hear the dialogue going on in, between, and among babies?) Anyway, I'm sure our baby boy has thought, "Wow, these sharp things are NOT in my mouth...why is that?" Just a point for we adults to ponder...
A tush. This is more of an accomplishment than a discovery: our son can sit on his tush without any props, without falling over (well, 90% of the time...)!
Of course I don't remember the first time I balanced on my bottom as an infant, but I DO remember the first time I could ride my training-wheel bike without needing the training wheels: that moment of balance when you hold your breath. (Keeping with my psycho McCoy memory, the mile-marking even took place on our driveway in Radcliff, Kentucky, during the summer before my kindergarten year. My dad and brother witnessed the event, and I then remember Dad taking the smaller training wheels off for me to test ride the "2 wheeler" around the house in the grass....) I can say that Keith and I have coached Caleb in this sitting "ability" since Christmas. Selfishly, we wanted to be able to tell the doctor at the 6 month appointment that our son could sit up, even though he doesn't roll over consistently. Regardless of our motives, Caleb can balance, and I wonder if his baby brain had a silent celebration the moment his "training wheels" (the Boppy pillow and parent hands) came off. (This picture is the before shot of Caleb's sitting era.)
A tail. Yes, the tail belonging to a certain tabby. Caleb finally notices the cat; when Summit walks across the room, Caleb's eye's track her movement. Three months ago, Keith and I started taking Caleb's hand and petting Summit with it. Now, he tries to do this on his own; most times the result is a previously baby-saliva coated hand now covered with cat fur. It's humorous to watch--and occasionally Summit's tail comes into Caleb's grip. No pulling yet, so I'm not sure if the cat is currently bothered by all this new attention/activity. I'll simply close with this image, taken moments before I had planned to open the apartment door to wheel Caleb and the stroller outside for a walk, only to be halted by an "unexpected" cargo in the bottom basket:
and he got to call the match at his discretion (after 5-1 in the first set...I won't tell who was ahead...it's too embarrassing). Of course every parent wonders what sport his or her kid will want to play and thus begins to present "the best choices" starting at an early age. Keith's vote? Well...just take a look at Caleb's outfit (Avalanche). Unfortunately, I don't think our little 12 
and he's spending it with his mom, dad, Uncle David, and Omi and Papa. But not with SUMMIT. His feline companion, the grey and white tabby cat, is prob
