All About Agustin

 

Agustin is at such a fun age now. I was looking at some pictures of him from November, and it struck me that he’s such a different kid now. Those were tough times—still good, but tough because we were figuring him out and he just didn’t communicate the way he does now.



He loves to be outside. In fact, that used to be one of the most reliable ways to calm him down—as soon as we’d get in the elevator, he’d stop crying, and he’d fall asleep the second we stepped outside of the lobby. He still likes to get out. But now he’s much more engaged. He’ll turn to see the street performer that he can hear. I notice him in the grocery store checking out the shelves. He’s a much happier boy when we spend at least some time outside every day.

He especially loves trees. There aren’t too many here in the urban jungle, but when we were hiking in Tasmania he was transfixed by the green canopy. Since then, I’ve noticed that if we walk under a big tree he throws his head back and gazes up at the green. He's also more likely to stare out windows when there's greenery outside of them.


He also loves his baths. He might be a swimmer. Or maybe he’ll just really enjoy hot tubs.

His grandmother Carmen got him some baby Uggs, which I love. Thing is, the furry insides seem to make him point his toes. I can’t get them on him properly unless he’s asleep because he will not flex or relax his feet. He doesn’t have this issue with other shoes.


He started giggling in his sleep before I ever saw him do it in reaction to anything. The first time we heard him laugh was in Tasmania—Adam was tickling him and he started chuckling. That was one of the highlights of my life.

His silent crack up is much more common. Sometimes he’ll throw his head back with the biggest smile and a noiseless laugh. Very endearing.

He’s also finding his voice. When I get up with him early in the morning he’ll often sit in his chair babbling away while I make my coffee.

His hands fascinate him and he’ll study them for quite some time, moving his fingers and turning his palms. Then he’ll shove them in his mouth and chew on them endlessly.


He won’t take a pacifier now. Hands taste better, I guess. And somebody else’s hands are the very best, though he’ll settle for a blanket or soft toy if he has too.

He won’t take a bottle any more either. Once we started breastfeeding, I was so tired of pumping that I took an extended break. When I got back from California, I made a bottle so that Adam could feed him. He refused. I know this will be a problem at some point, but breastfeeding has helped me feel so much more bonded with him, and I can’t help but think he must feel that.


He is such a joy, and I fall more in love with him every day.