All about Grant

Almost overnight, it seems, Grant has a personality. Or maybe we're just finally taking notice now that we're creeping out of survival mode and entering parenthood. At nearly 2 months old, Grant is now a little person and not just some eating, pooping, crying blob. We can even see aspects of his temperament that may persist beyond babyhood, and we're having lots of fun assigning genetic blame for some of Grant's less desirable personality traits.

So who is Grant Samuel Sorgen?

He's inquisitive. Grant's favorite thing to do is just walk around the house and look at stuff. He likes when Mommy opens the freezer and shows him what's for dinner. He likes staring at the paintings on our walls. He studies our bookshelf intently. For the most part, we find this quality endearing. But we curse his curiosity when it's time for him to nap and instead we find him staring at the mobile or ogling obsessively the dots on his crib bumper. At those moments, I wish we could strap a baby sleep mask on his face to block out all stimulation.

He's independent. Grant is definitely not one of those babies who needs to be held all the time. On the contrary, he gets all fussy and squirmy when you hold him for too long. Put him in his activity gym or on the floor, and he's all smiles again. Oh sure, he'll tolerate a little snuggling when he needs something from you - food, a diaper change, a bit of rocking before he goes to sleep. But then he wants you gone. Mostly, I appreciate his independent streak. But sometimes I just want to spend all day cuddling with him in bed, and I find myself wrestling a rabid wolverine, his arms and legs flailing about, pushing me away, his razorlike baby fingernails clawing at my eyes...


Content to be alone in his activity gym:



He's high-strung. Thank you, Zolotin genes. Grant is a nervous, anxious little babe. Everything startles him; the world is alarming. When he farts, he cries. The heater kicks on - he flinches. He hits himself in the head with a wayward hand, and he's wrecked. Sometimes, the pacifier makes a slurping sound, and even though it's in his mouth, his eyes dart around in panic.

He doesn't mind being dirty. A dirty diaper might bother some babies - not Grant. A bath? No thank you. This kid is perpetually funky, and it makes me sad, because I feel as though it reflects poorly on me, as a mother, even though I am literally doing everything in my power to keep a well groomed, pleasant smelling baby. Despite my efforts, Grant just always looks disheveled. When my friend Johanna brings over her beautiful, well mannered baby in adorable designer outfits, I can't help but compare him to Grant - one sock hanging off, the other sock nowhere to be found, a crusty pearl of spit-up in the corner of his mouth, his breath smelling of vomit, the top of his head reeking like the stairwell of a Santa Monica parking garage. I mean, the kid has dirty fingernails! We clip and clean his nails all the time, so I can only surmise that my 2-month-old is moonlighting as a ditch digger. In any event, I bathe him every night, and I change him constantly. He just stinks. (For the record, I think he gets this trait from Leigh, who can go a whole weekend without showering or changing his clothes and thinks Grant smells just fine).


Witness, the sock problem:



He's sensitive. The Baby Whisperer would call Grant a "touchy" baby, which means the slightest little thing sets him off. A bright light, a loud noise, a funny glance - basically any deviation from the norm - can elicit a complete meltdown. We're not proud of it, but Grant will probably be the kid who cries over everything, sobbing until he vomits (he does this now). He'll always get his feelings hurt. He'll be overwhelmed with empathy. And, much to our dismay, he'll probably be a bit of a wussy. (Thank God we didn't name him Alistair). We'll have to sign him up for sports as soon as he can walk.

He's expressive. Some might say Grant is "fussy" or "cries a lot." We like to think he's expressive. He's always telling you, at every moment of the day, how he's feeling. I mean, really. At. Every. Moment. Of. The. Day.


Grant, telling us how much he hates his car seat:



He's Daddy's boy. Grant will hang out with Mom as long as her boob is out, but she doesn't have the magic touch. In Leigh's arms, Grant is calm, relaxed and content. Together, they'll watch Ultimate Fighting and play Superman, and Leigh can always get Grant to sleep for loooong stretches of time. So I think I'll keep both of them around.