A Cheeseburger Chronicle

My dad calls my mackerdoodle “punkin” (and her youngest cousin is “muffin”, making them two punkin muffins.) but as my cheesedoodle is only 3 months old he hadn’t garnered a moniker until late in the last visit when inexplicably Dad began calling him cheeseburger.

In a lot of ways it’s a better name than cheesedoodle.  My little guy is a lot more substantial than a single snack twist.  At 3 1/2 months old he’s already in 6 month clothes and almost too long for them.  He’s not exactly a doodle.  In fact it feels like he’s trying to catch up with his sister.  He’s a month ahead of her development  in gross motor skills – already trying to climb out of his bouncy seat on a regular basis.  He’s grabbing his sister’s clothes and hair which only seems to mildly perturb her at worst and amuse her at best.

He’s also a shameless flirt, smiling and giggling at select women at church (Allison and Jawan being his current favorites).  He will often stare up at the mackerdoodle hoping for some sort of response.  He has never been disappointed.

He is anxiously chewing at some tender nubs on his top gums and prefers mama’s fingers to any teething toy offered.

He is his own little person, so I don’t know why it surprises me that he does things differently to the way his sister did it.  Sometimes it’s a happy surprise.  Sometimes, like when he was awake from2 am to shortly after 4 am Monday morning, I want to say “Your sister NEVER did this to me!”

So no, he’s not exactly a doodle.  He’s becoming a fully drawn portrait in his own right.

But he’s still my Cheesedoodle.