inchworm
the journal of Michael Werneburg
twenty-seven years and one million words
The boy turned five months old on June 27th. The progress he's been making recently is astonishing.
First, it's clear that he'll be crawling in a matter of weeks. He can already move forward in much the same way that an inchworm does, by scrunching up his back, then pushing himself forward. It's really something to see, when you're used to him simply lying about. Adding this to his abilities to roll over and turn about in situ, and he's essentially got the run of the apartment at this point. He can even climb up, over and down obstacles.
Ken can also figure out how to manipulate things to get the results he wants. For a few weeks now he's known how to pull something towards him, even if it means pulling the mat upon which the object is resting. He's also able to open all of the different panels on one of those Fischer-Price pop-up toys. The one he usually gets first is the one where you have to turn a dial 'round and 'round to make the door open. I have little trouble picturing him opening a box or turning a door handle, though of course he lacks the strength for the latter.
The only thing preventing him from turning up in the bedroom closet or the shower stall at this point is that he doesn't realize yet he can do all of these things in any sequence he likes. The only things preventing him from leaving the apartment are his physical strength and ability to reach the door handle.
Last night Mari tried to see if he'd drink water from a spoon. He got it on the first try, enthusiastically slurping it down. I then tried the next level, to see if he could drink from a cup. He immediately began to try lapping the water into his mouth with his tongue (like a dog). It didn't work, but he sure grabbed the cup firmly enough; I had difficulty prising it from his grasp.
From a helpless little bundle of startled pink newborn to a small boy in only five months. I suppose he'll be clamboring onto tables, throwing food and cursing, soon. Until then I'll cherish his little daily triumphs, and hang onto these early days as long as they last.