Mom and I are excited because Baby Mojo has found his voice.
Unfortunately that is not a singing metaphor; rather our eight month old has discovered that he can talk. I’m all for talking; don’t get me wrong, but an eight month old talks at one volume: a very loud and punishing auditory dagger that would have Spinal Tap dialing it down from 11.
The screaming from our son usually happens when he’s being fed solid foods. The red in his face, packaged full of baby rage is all treble, no bass; which seems to make the shrieks hurt that much more.
Being a new stay at home dad I know that more challenging situations will arise. To deal me with the sonic assault coming from our son’s pie hole I’m faced with a couple options. Continue reading Sonic Youth of my loins