Isaac Update: Shriek! Eeek!

Isaac has turned into a shrieker. He's gaining words fast and furious now (although many of them are variations on "consonant+ah", like "cah" for car or "caah" for cracker or "bah" for ball or "tah" for star, and so on) but they're mostly an entertaining game for him, not a serious method of communication. When he really wants to express himself, he shrieks. He doesn't whine, he doesn't whimper, he doesn't cry, he doesn't sing, he doesn't babble (ok he does do all of those from time to time, just not as his main method), he shrieks. Ear-piercingly. Happy shrieks, unhappy shrieks, "pay attention to meeee" shrieks, "the world is not serving my will" shrieks, and just general "I'm alive! Look what I can do with my body!" shrieks. Occasionally it's cute; most of the time it grates on my every last nerve like Tabasco sauce on a shredded hangnail. Sometimes--like this morning, for example--it is so bad I literally can feel my eardrums throbbing and I find myself wondering if I should start wearing protective headwear. God, I hope this phase is a quick one.

But have I also mentioned how gosh-darn *cute* he is? Amazingly so, I must admit. It's definitely the "plus" side of the ledger in this whole "living with a toddler" thing: mind-bending amounts of sheer adorableness in a chubby, flirty, wide-eyed, giggly package. (My dad always cites cuteness as though it completely made up for every other childrearing difficulty: "but at least he's just SO CUTE"--and he's not totally wrong, though he may have forgotten just how difficult the actual difficulties are, being 35 years or so removed from it.) You don't have to just take my word for it, let me show you:

And as long as we're at it, I might add that I just updated Isaac's webpage, if you feel like exposing yourself to even yet more toxic levels of cuteness. But you have been warned. Wear lead sunglasses or something.