Teething troubles
Jasper’s in a state of
permanent flux, fitting for a growing
boy I suppose. The latest set of symptoms: hair falling out; eczema on
his
chest, in the creases of his elbows and behind his knees; a veritable
fountain
of drool issuing from his mouth and soaking his clothing. Yes, the little man
is teething.
We bought him a ring which is supposed to provide oral comfort, but so far he gnaws on his clothes, his hands and anything else close by instead. Not that the process bothers Jasper in the least – as usual, he’s calm unless hungry or tired.
Just as everybody who meets him says how cute he is, nobody fails to comment about his state of near-permanent placidity. JD is a pool of Zen in the turbulent ocean of modern life.
Perhaps monks are babies that never quite grow out of enjoying inner peace, a simple diet, regular exercise and naps whenever they get fatigued. The more I think about it, the more I like that lifestyle.
Even the prospect of a flat spot on his little head doesn’t bother him. Over the weekend, we met another couple whose eight-month-old looks like he got hit by a frying pan just behind the ears. (In a good way.) They said his head was much flatter before and has popped out in the last few weeks. Reassuring, kind of, but somebody else’s lack of worry doesn’t prevent us from feeling concern for our little one.
In the light of such terrible scenes from Nature-ravaged southern USA, such minor concerns seem petty. Not much separates humans from hardship, but in addition to the physical walls of our house, Jasper has Carolina and I as one extra layer of protection against bad things that could occur.
But I won’t waste much time worrying about that: his baby grower needs the drool washing out of it, again. Sleep well.
