Soren seems to have developed separation anxiety. Whenever Mr. A and I are out of his line of sight, he screams as loud as he can (which is about as loud as anyone) and then collapses into tears. He's also furious that he still can't crawl, so he'll sort of flop/scoot after us in a pathetic attempt to catch up, screaming all the while. It's fun for everyone.
Lest it sound as though we needlessly torture the baby, most of this happens when he's playing on the floor with his toys and I commit the heinous crime of, say, stepping into the bathroom to blow my nose. Our house is only 780 square feet total so it's not like I'm incredibly far away.
Other things Soren doesn't care for right now: putting on shirts, taking off shirts, putting on pants (taking them off is usually okay), putting on pajamas, drinking from a bottle, drinking from a sippy cup.
On the bright side, he's usually a pretty happy guy when we're not messing with him.
The separation anxiety so far does not apply to daycare--he always seems stoked to be there. In fact, there has been more than one morning when I dropped him off and his whole air was, "FINALLY, somewhere where people understand me."
Also, he does great in the car now. For months, he behaved as though his car seat were made out of fire, but now he seems to be as happy there as anywhere. We went away to the mountains for new years, a two-and-a-half hour drive each way, and he did just fine. Mainly because he is obsessed with these things, which I fed him steadily throughout the trip:
Creepy packaging, but apparently delightful to the baby palette.