Good, toothless fun

My little guy is almost 2 months old now, growing like a weed, and - lately - smiling and laughing. The "social smile," as it is called in developmental terms, is just about the best thing ever. Better than chocolate, ice cream, or sex. Or even sex in chocolate ice cream!!

Just when I was pushed to the point of exhaustion, rolling with the chaos that is the newborn's world, ready to pay someone to come to my house and hold the little guy for about 3 days so that I could just SLEEP the whole time... he started giving us these big, gurgly grins. And suddenly the sun is shining again and somehow I can face another late-night feeding or half-hour "cry for no reason" fest. This must be an evolutionary protection babies have developed... just when you are so tired that you're about to consider leaving them with a pack of wolves to be raised, they become so intensely adorable that you decide to keep them for just a little longer.

But it gets more fun: the smile starts to develop its own little characteristics, which we watch in bemusement and amazement, wondering if they are clues to the person he'll become in the coming years. There's the Elvis smile, where one side of his lip curls up as he looks at you, like he's trying to decide if whatever you're doing or saying is really funny enough to merit a full smile. Then there's the shy smile, where he shrugs he shoulders and looks modestly to the side before hitting you with the big, toothless grin.

And the goofy laugh -- who knew someone 8 weeks old could have a goofy laugh? Well, my son DOES. He laughs at me once in a while, and MDH a little more often... but his favorite comedic inspiration is the hot air balloon mobile we bought for him at IKEA, which hangs high above his changing table. It has 3 little animals leaning over the side of the basket, looking down on him while his diaper's being changed, and apparently those 3 guys are the funniest characters ever to be sewn out of a polyester blend. Little man just looks up at them, transfixed, and if we bat the balloon a little so that they move for him, we are often rewarded with a series of smiles and then: "Heh, heh, heh."

The books don't say much about laughter at this age, so maybe he's not supposed to be able to laugh yet. "They" also say that babies can only see well to about 12 inches at this point, and the balloon is a good 3 feet above his head when he's on the table. But don't tell him that, because that goofy little laugh makes my whole damn day worthwhile.