My parents don't know what hit them.
Remember how I had the whole give-birth-at-home-in-a-pool-no-drugs-for-me-thank-you-very-much plan? How at 35 weeks Bunting was head down and spine forward and we were a-okay, good to go? And then I felt a mega wiggle and whooomp! and thought that he had settled into my pelvis and was ready to make his debut? And spent a week patting his bum, but really that was his head, because ACTUALLY he was doing a 180 and getting all nice and comfy in a breech position, feet down? And so I had a c-section, the very thing I dreaded almost more than anything else in the world (though it ended being not too terrible, except for the hospital/surgery part)?
Well. As my friend Pilar warned, this was evidently merely the first example of our son's proclivity for doing things HIS WAY. We are shocked!! I mean, his parents are such easygoing people, so content to join the pack, to do things the "normal" way without comment...
Exhibit A:
No boring, tummy down, "hey, let's look where we're going!" crawling for our boy.
No longer can we put him in the middle of the floor, secure in the knowledge that he will remain there until a time of our choosing. Oh no. The other day I was on the phone with Mepher, discussing wedding stuff; Bunting was on the floor no more than 6 feet away from me. I Googled something, looked back over, and he was gone. Startled, I went to investigate, and discovered that he enjoys doing this:

When I located him, only his chubby little feet were peeking out, a la the Wicked Witch of the West. He does the Upside Down Inchworm until he is completely underneath the chair. Whilst he is inchworm-ing, he shrieks and chortles, keeping up a constant stream of sound to go with his motion.
All at once, he has cast off stationary baby-hood. He is a mini man with a plan.

June has been a very busy and fun filled month for Bunting. He figured out how to sit up on his own-

Met beloved cousin Libby (technically his first cousin twice removed), who came to visit all the way from New York City. Libby's mom is Gigi's younger sister Ruth, who passed away many years ago. Bunting was born on his Great Aunt Ruth's birthday.

Got to hang out with new cousin Kira (technically his step-second cousin)-

and had a several lovely visits with Uncles Steven (below) and Jim, who travelled all the way from Taiwan for a family wedding. FRK and Jim have been friends since they were five years old. 30 years later, we have a baby boy and he lives on the other side of the globe, but we are all close, and try to get together as often as possible.

No boring, tummy down, "hey, let's look where we're going!" crawling for our boy.
No longer can we put him in the middle of the floor, secure in the knowledge that he will remain there until a time of our choosing. Oh no. The other day I was on the phone with Mepher, discussing wedding stuff; Bunting was on the floor no more than 6 feet away from me. I Googled something, looked back over, and he was gone. Startled, I went to investigate, and discovered that he enjoys doing this:

When I located him, only his chubby little feet were peeking out, a la the Wicked Witch of the West. He does the Upside Down Inchworm until he is completely underneath the chair. Whilst he is inchworm-ing, he shrieks and chortles, keeping up a constant stream of sound to go with his motion.
All at once, he has cast off stationary baby-hood. He is a mini man with a plan.

I will lay here for a moment. Then- global domination.
We have bade farewell to our early morning snugglefests in bed. Previously he would wake, FRK or I would fetch him from his room, and then we would get back in bed, nurse, and then drowse for a bit, all three of us cozy in bed.
Bunting has decided drowsing is for suckers. He is totally untrustworthy on our bed, he is a wiggling, scootching, maniac.


We must be ever vigilant. If there is a seatbelt, we use it. If he must be unsupervised for a moment, we put him in the Command Center, or in his crib. He is grabby and fast, and like all babies he has an unerring instinct for THE most dangerous/sharp/potentially lethal item within his line of sight.
While we are in a constant state of alert, hovering at around DEFCON 2, he is engaged in the serious business of exploring this world, tasting everything he can, keenly observing his environs. He scratches his fingers against everything, investigating the texture and sound. He pushes things deliberately under pieces of furniture, and then peers at the object with great interest. He turns toward any unusual noise, raising his eyebrows as if to say "now what was that!?".
All the while, he remains a happy, chatty boy. His every waking moment is filled with smiles and opinions.







Met beloved cousin Libby (technically his first cousin twice removed), who came to visit all the way from New York City. Libby's mom is Gigi's younger sister Ruth, who passed away many years ago. Bunting was born on his Great Aunt Ruth's birthday.

Got to hang out with new cousin Kira (technically his step-second cousin)-

and had a several lovely visits with Uncles Steven (below) and Jim, who travelled all the way from Taiwan for a family wedding. FRK and Jim have been friends since they were five years old. 30 years later, we have a baby boy and he lives on the other side of the globe, but we are all close, and try to get together as often as possible.

As if that wasn't enough, he somehow found the time last week to sprout THREE new teeth (the top two in the middle, and then another directly to the left), bringing the tooth count to five! Yet again, he suffered very little angst as he was teething; copious amounts of drool, a few brief wake ups at midnight (nothing a little nursing couldn't fix), then suddenly one day a hint of white peeking out of his gums, and voila! three new teeth.
We take oral hygiene seriously around here. I (touch wood) have never had a cavity, so of course now that he has real teeth, Bunting is on a strict regimen of brushing and flossing.


oral hygiene is fundamental
Bunting goes to bed at 8pm every evening. And every night at about 11 or so, FRK and I look at each other and begin to grin like fools, full of wonder at how amazing and hilarious our boy is, how we never could have anticipated how much we love him. Then we begin to miss him, so we sneak into his room to watch him sleep.
Our sweet boy, almost 7 months old.
















































