Did I ever tell you that we took 'Rad bowling on Friday? It's a two-year running tradition to go out bowling the day after Thanksgiving when Z's family is in town, and we hit up the Badger Bowl once again this year for some low-key, out-of-the-house, post-Thanksgiving "exercise" (no one refers to it as exercise except for me. Whatever makes you feel good, right?). A friend gave us a portable baby bed - much easier to travel with and quicker to set up than a pack-and-play - and we put it on top of one of the unused tables next to our lanes.
It was the perfect time of the day to play some pin; there weren't too many lanes being used so the noise level was manageable, and 'Rad was happy as a clam looking up at the toys dangling above him while mom shook hands with the headpin and bowled over 100 (always my goal) and dad got a few strikes. I'll put that on my short list of baby-friendly outings that Z and I rarely partake in. The only thing that would have made it better would have been if we had a bowling shirt for 'Rad. Or baby bowling shoes! When do you put shoes on a baby, anyway? He's not going to really need them anytime soon, so do you just buy them for the adorable factor? I feel it's that way with so many baby things.
'Rad is getting a flat spot on the back of his head :-/ I find it disconcerting that there is a medical term for this, but I'm not going to look it up again because it makes it sound like such a serious condition. He's moving his head from side to side as evidenced by the stylin' bald strip around his cranium, so I'm not sure what else I can do. We do tummy time when he'll tolerate it, and I've been trying to hold him so that his little noggin isn't pressed up against the bouncy seat, play mat, or crib too much. But my arms get tired, I need some 'Rad-free time, or I just don't feel like carrying him around like the little trophy that he is - a triumph of biology, careful planning, and straight-up cuteness.
Today is a big day for 'Rad and company - it's his 3-month birthday! That's right, our little man has moved up in the clothing department; his 0-3 month clothes are getting a little tight, and this weekend I put him in his first 3-6 month onesie. That seems like almost as big or an even bigger event than turning the calendar page on his age. Every day when I pick him up I think, You are a little brick. And every day I think that, I also think, I am a huge wimp. This kid has only just begun to grow, so you better start working on those bis and tris before you drop him on his little Mongolian-spotted bum. Thank goodness I didn't give birth to a 10+ pound baby or else that kid would have a flat ass on top of a flat head. That sounds way harsher than I intended...
Happy 3-month birthday, C-rad! Love you!