Easter Baby

Dear Auntie Lisa and Uncle Matt were kind enough to bring Paul a plethora of toys that their little rascals are too old to care about. (Thanks again, by the way!) If you've been keeping up on this blog, you've already seen how Paul feels about the baby rain stick they gave him. His reaction to the Jack-in-the-Box was, surprisingly, more positive.

In order to share with Paul the joys of Easter, we had to simplify the activities somewhat. Namely the egg hunt. Take a gander at the kind of Easter Egg Hunt you can do with a five month old baby:

Paul found one egg...because Dad put it on his tummy.

 Paul's first Easter is also, I presume, the last Easter he will be okay with getting unsweetened applesauce as a treat. Next year if he wants more sugary treats, I'll just make him share with me.

Of Toys and Clean Teeth.

I don't remember ever being one of those kids who hated the dentist. My parents and childhood dentists might tell it differently, but in my recollection I was never particularly troublesome about the whole business.
It had been at least a year, maybe two, since my last appointment. Time for a cleaning! I finally got around to scheduling one and promptly forgot about it. Not to worry! I was reminded in time (barely) to get Paul babysat and peddle myself to the torture chamb--I mean, dentist.

I have completely taken Dr. Huffaker for granted. I was used to 15 minute, timely, in-and-out appointments. Ford, if you ever read this, thank you for not making my visit a time of horror. Between my long hiatus from professional dental care and my hyper-sensitive, bleeding gums (compliments of pregnancy), it was excruciating. As if trying to add insult to injury, there was country music playing in the background of the entire visit. If Dante had known of such tortures, they surely would have found their way into his Inferno.
Advice for dental students: If your patient is bleeding profusely and requires a rinse every minute or so, you're doing it wrong.
I have joined the legions of people who hate dental visits. I found myself thinking, "you know what would make this more awkward? Eye contact." Think about it! Staring into the eyes of the person mere inches from your face as they maneuver around your unruly tongue. They are making you as uncomfortable as possible, might as well return the favor.

If any of my readers decide to try this, I ask that they share their experience with the rest of us. Please, entertain me.

And if you wanted more baby related stuff, I've got some of that too:

Paul has grown to love his bouncer. Not that he really bounces in it, but he twirls and tries to eat whatever he can reach. In other news, putting his play mat by the sliding door was a good idea. He spends half the time just looking out the window.

He's our cute little Jumperoo!