Joy Monster

Rhys was the Joy Monster today. Vicki took him to the Central Park Zoo. I gather he mostly slept through the actual zoo, but he did get a great deal of excitement on trains, seeing squirrels, eating yogurt, and suchlike exotica. When I got home, he was squealing in delight over a dinner of barley cereal with breastmilk and applesauce. Then he had a wild rampaging good time rolling around on the livingroom carpet -- only in the last few weeks has he gotten to the point where he can roll over reliably, and he is reveling in his new superpower. He's also working on the next one, which is crawling: he can sometimes (not reliably) get to hands and knees and stay there for a bit. This gives him great joy. As does grabbing my finger to nibble on it, and getting scooped up and waved in the air, and having me blow a raspberry on his belly, and having Vicki or me sing a randomly song, or ... just about anything, for a good hour and a half.

Babies are called "bundle of joy". I never really understood that, 'til I saw Rhys in action today.