Arrested Development

I’m now 17 weeks old and I’ve finally started to roll over. Within hours I plan on running, climbing, and, maybe, flying. We’ll see.

While developing as fast as I can to spite the enjoyment of my parents, I’ve noticed that most of you people have no idea what happens when as a baby such as myself develops. So as a refresher, here are a couple things that are happening to me now and will happen to me in the near future:

I can now distinguish several hundred different spoken words; many more than are in my parents native language. My brain has organized itself around the words heard most frequently and is beginning to create an auditory map to process the languages efficiently. And even though there is no research to indicate that one kind of music or another promotes early brain development, I do respond positively to music. Mostly, to my parents chagrin, opera.

While I am now living in a predictable world that has some order to it, I am also able to sleep for longer periods of time, can go longer between feedings, and am establishing a new schedule for eating, sleeping, and experiencing the world. My blossoming mental abilities are helping me organize what I see, hear, smell, touch, and taste. When I am in comfortable and secure surroundings, I am especially responsive to people, objects, and new experiences.

My parents help by holding me so that the world has a sense of predictability. They talk back to by coos, bubbles, and random attempts at conversation, but have yet to fully grasp the complexity in which I can communicate. Hopefully, in time, their brains will evolve enough to be able to communicate with me.

Over the coming months I expect to keep moving up in the world. At six months I’ll be able to switch a toy from one hand to another, my speech should become clearer to my slow parents, and I should be able to sit up on my own. I’m not rushing any of these, and if I don’t meet some and happen to do others early, that’s all right too.

By nine months I should be turning pages in board books, looking at familiar objects and people when named, imitating others, sort-of crawling, and my vocabulary will expand a bit. At twelve months I will finally be able to meaningfully use certain simple words, pulling myself to stand up and cruising along furniture. I might even stand alone and take several independent steps, but I’ll wait and see how I feel about it.

A Time to Play

Since my mom and dad found out I was on my way they began preparing for me. In some ways they were like many new parents researching all the latest equipment and buying cribs, car seats, strollers and the like. Where they are a little different is that they went way overboard on buying books (I have a better library than some elementary schools) but neglected to buy me any toys. Thanks to Tom and Kate I at least had a few stuffed animals when I came home from the hospital.

Before I only had my play mat and my vibrating seat to keep me occupied but over the last several weeks my parents have finally gotten their act together and bought me some toys. It took them this long because they have to research everything. They wouldn’t dare to purchase something for me to play with on a whim because apparently it could kill me. These toys (among others) will help me learn, explore the world and understand new concepts as I find them. My favorite toy now is “Sophie” the giraffe. I like her because she squeaks, has great contrasting colors and tastes so good. I also have two new rattles that I like. One is made of cherry wood that has a matching teething ring made of maple and the other is a soft green frog. With any luck my parents will do a little less research and a little more buying of toys.

Communication Breakdown

I do not understand what is wrong with the people around me. I speak in a language that should be both universal and easily comprehended by all. My body movements match my speech and clearly exemplify the point that I am trying to get across. There is no excuse whatsoever for anyone who cannot easily and intrinsically understand what I am saying. And yet, no one seems to. All they do is coo, smile, make funny sounds, and stand there looking at me as if they themselves have never once attempted to communicate with another living creature and therefore could not be expected to even chance a guess as to what it is that I am saying. It is extraordinarily frustrating.

I Have Chosen Wisely

I have come to a conclusion involving some of my early likes and dislikes: Dad is not as interesting as the ceiling fan. In order to explain how this is so, I’ve created the following comparison chart:

Dad	The Ceiling Fan
Reads to me in three different languages	Provides endless hours of entertainment
Makes funny faces and voices	Reflects the light from the room
Changes my diapers and feeds me	Constantly spins above my head
Works to provide me the essentials	Is my friend

So as you can see, there is a reason that I constantly ignore dad and stare at the ceiling fan - it’s just more interesting!

My First Vacation

This last week I went to Grand Cayman with my Mom and Dad, Aunt Marian, Uncle Justin, Grandma Joan, and Grandpa Edgar, along with Mr. Tom’s and Ms. Kate's friends and family. The purpose of the trip was so that Mom and Tom could attend their MD graduation from St. Matthew’s University at the Ritz-Carlton on the island.

Truth be told, I really needed this vacation. You have no idea how hard it is being a baby. Honestly, people just look at you and think that all you do is sleep, poop, and eat -- but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Just imagine trying to learn to do everything from scratch. I have to mentally learn a new language (or a couple if my dad has anything to say about it), verbalize said language, and then be able to comprehend what I am saying at real-time speed. There’s that, plus still trying to understand everything else that is coming at me high speed. I’m building a personality, finding emotions, exploring the world, working on my coordination... It’s really, really hard. So as I was saying, I needed this vacation.

Over the course of the week we went to a bunch of different beaches, toured Grand Cayman’s capital of Georgetown, visited the Turtle Farm, Hell (an actual place in West Bay), a bunch of restaurants, East End, the National Reserve, and a wonderful private beach where everyone stayed. It was amazing. There were lots of people who did a good job of making sure that I barely got any sleep at all. And it was an experience that I will take a lot from. I am now back at home trying to recover from the last week. I posted the vacation pictures in the Week 11 Pictures section.

What's in a Name?

The boy's name Sebastian \s(e)-bas-tian, seb(a)-stian\ is pronounced se-BASS-tian and is of Greek origin, meaning "venerable ". The original form of this name referred to those from a particular city or region of Asia Minor, whose Greek name was from the Latin imperial title "Augustus". Shakespeare gave the name to the twin brother of Viola in "Twelfth Night". British use since the 1940s may have been influenced by a character in Evelyn Waugh's popular "Brideshead Revisited". My parents choose it because it wasn’t overly common, wasn’t religious, and had strong literary credentials. They are weird.

The boy's name Thomas \th(o)-mas\ is pronounced TAH-mas. It is of Aramaic origin, and its meaning is "twin". My parents choose it because it was my great grandfathers (my father’s mother’s dad) name. He only had girls and wasn’t able to pass his name on, so it came to me.

The name Hamilton \ha-mil-ton, ham(i)-lton\ is pronounced HAM-ul-tun. It is of Old English origin, originally Hambleton, and its meaning is "flat-topped hill". It is the place name and surname of one of the great noble families in Scotland.

My family tree on both sides is well documented. On both the Hamilton Thomas side and the Tirado (my mother’s maiden name) Eubanks side, are known for over ten generations. Although they both assure me that there is nothing for me to live up to -- only that I am content in what I choose to be.

What does all this mean? Well, if you take all of the definitions, lump them together, you quickly find out that I am an old hill with two bumps. Nice, eh?

Baby Dreams

We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.

The Tempest Act 4, scene 1, 157–158

My dreams are my own, but powerful. They consist of shapes, colors, faces, and movement; elegance in simplicity to understand the complexity of my world. Soon they will become more elaborate, with plots and subtext. For now, I’m happy to dream peacefully while people gently kiss my forehead and tell me I’m adorable.