Summertime blues...

The boy tries to tell us when he is going to let go of (part of) his lunch. Sometimes I am truly warned. Most of the time, it all comes as a complete surprise.

Most of his developments come through to his parents in the latter form. No foreshadowing, no warning. Preparation mostly means a high dosage of acceptance and forbearance.

Lately, he communicates stress --- be it "I'm about to toss" or "I'm tired and I need a quiet place" & etc --- by grabbing his scalp with much force and causing breaks in his skin.

At first we thought there were just itching issues, but since we got past some of that by diligent use of oil in tandem with gentle shampoo we know it arises more out of habit than anything else.

It changes our relationship in interesting ways. There is no saying 'no,' but we wish that could do. When he usually gives and elicits smiles, from time to time now they are tinged with the concern we naturally feel looking at scratches on his brow and scalp.

Actually, we bought some mittens and prepared them, but then remembered the very first shirt that the boy ever wore. It was a 12-month-old fitted shirt with a fold-over hand cover mitty that then protected his little hands from the air. The nurse put the shirt on just after his first bath.

The shirt, at the time of his birth, fit the boy as one of the olden night-shirts used to fit: Down past the knee and nearly to his ankles. The shirt swallowed up his little arms so that we never really needed, in those days, to fold over the mitties to keep his fingers covered.

Today, the sixteenth week since his grand entrance, that shirt fits like a 'muscle shirt' fits a youth. The shirt falls just to his belly button, but, thankfully, the arms' length manages to accommodate the use of the mitties to now protect the boy from himself.

Something old is new, and something new --- namely his little habit which drives his parents crazy --- is old. Yay!

Today papí needed some recuperation. And the boy took to this as he does most situations at home. The boy does not like to sit about, but papí worked late into the night for some domestic issues. Picked up the vehicle also yesterday. It is driving better than before its little issues.

So that is the sum of it right now: The boy's capriciousness is arising. I suppose that characteristics of personality manifest in odd ways, and through the filter of his extremely limited experience.

For now, his parents will not allow him to scratch his beautiful face off, and we shall await his realization of self-preservation.

Cheers.