Today Hammie reached several important milestones. Not only did he turn 6 weeks old, but he also smiled and cooed for the first time. I tried to get a picture of him smiling but, like all children, as soon as you ask him to perform some new trick he absolutely refuses to comply.
His smiling is a very good sign considering we found a few days ago that his bronchilitis likely resulted from the fact that he has RSV (Respiratory Syncytial Virus), which explains why he has been so sick and miserable lately.

Having RSV isn't really a big deal in itself, most children have it at some point before they turn 2 and since Hammie wasn't premature it isn't as serious of a health threat as it could be (though obviously having it when he is this young isn't ideal). What most concerns me that Fraser was never diagnosed as having RSV, but I can't imagine where else Hammie would have picked it up. After reading the description of the RSV symptoms, it seems likely that Fraser had RSV last winter and this fall, and it resulted in his bronchilitis both times. (FYI - we had to see a doctor other that Fraser and Hammie's primary pediatrician when I was there with Hammie, and it was this other doctor that diagnosed Hammie's RSV). Now it's not like the treatment for his bronchilitis would have changed at all based on an RSV diagnoses, but it does worry me that our pediatrician may have totally missed this apparently very basic diagnosis not once, but twice. I have no proof that Fraser had RSV, but the fact that Dr. MonkeyButt never even tested him for it definitely gives me a not-so-confident-in-Dr.-MonkeyButt kind of feeling.

My confidence in Dr. MonkeyButt has already been wavering lately since he still calls Fraser "Donald" even though I know his nurse has noted in Fraser's file that he goes by Fraser, and the last time Dr. MonkeyButt examined Hammie he didn't seem to have any idea that we had already discussed Hammie's undescended testicle several times (in fact during the examination he was surprised that Hammie even had an undescended testicle and, after blathering on like an idiot for a few minutes had the sense to check his file and see that it was undescended at birth). Look, I understand that doctors are very busy people and can't be expected to remember the details of every patients file at all times, but would it kill him to familiarize himself quickly with a kid's file before he comes into the exam room? I mean, is this normal for a pediatrician to be so clueless or is this just another lovely perk we get for living in the middle of God forsaken nowhere where no qualified doctor would actually agree to practice?

Okay, I think I am done venting on that topic now. Despite his illness Hammie seems to be eating and sleeping a bit better again, which makes me very happy and relieved. Unfortunately, part of his eating better means he is back to screaming and thrashing around like a rabid animals when he doesn't get fed quite fast enough for his liking. Even when he is getting fed promptly he has this bizarre habit of clawing at my chest like a feral cat. I had tried clipping and filing his nails, but all the scratching still hurts like a bitch. I don't know if Fraser just didn't claw while he was getting a bottle, or if I didn't notice since I wasn't offering him bare skin to sharpen his claws on. In any event, I definitely still don't experience that warm, fuzzy bonding feeling breastfeeding was supposed to deliver and as long as my chest is being used as a scratching post I think it unlikely I will ever get to that point. Maybe I'll try putting socks over his hands when I'm trying to feed him.

Fraser is still doing very well and has happily entered the climbing phase of toddlerhood. We now have to keep him locked out of the kitchen at all times lest he again figure out how to get up onto the counter. Unlike his gross motor skills, Fraser's speech is not progressing as fast as I would have hoped. He isn't saying any new words and now seems to get so frustrated when I try to get him to talk that he melts down almost immediately. Even his speech therapist seems to be getting frustrated. Fraser was totally uncooperative when his therapist was here on Thursday morning, refusing to talk or sign and throwing a fit when she wouldn't immediately give him to the toy he wanted. Her advice now is basically to try to get him to ask for toys he wants to play with, but be sure to give him the toy regardless before he starts to melt down so he doesn't start to think that throwing a temper tantrum is an effective way to get what you want. This sounds great in theory, but in practice this gives you approximately a 3 second window to recognize when the explosion is coming, successfully determine what Fraser wants, and deliver it to him to disarm the bomb in time. Try to imagine doing that while feeding, carrying and entertaining a six week old and you might have some idea of how optimistic I feel that this course of action will prove fruitful.

Well, Hammie is waking up now, likely wishing to be fed so I better run and find some baby socks so I can cover his claws before he totally freaks. I know, you think I'm being crazy here but I'm telling you, Wolverine has nothing on this kid.