Ha-cha-cha-cha!
And one night, before we realized he knew the word, he lifts his head, points to the sky, takes a deep breath and shouts, ‘Moon!’ Well, it sounds more like ‘noon’ or ‘dune’. But still.
And one night, before we realized he knew the word, he lifts his head, points to the sky, takes a deep breath and shouts, ‘Moon!’ Well, it sounds more like ‘noon’ or ‘dune’. But still.
We jumped, we twirled, we hopped, the three of us shaking our groove thangs to the Bee Gees, Glen Miller and Journey. It was a blast!
It’s a championship bout between the Ian who climbs to the top of the jungle-gym by himself and the Ian who snuggles in our laps just before bedtime.
Three problems:
1) Ian is not allowed to touch Mommy’s soda.
2) Ian is not allowed to touch anything on the table.
3) Ian is very much aware of 1 and 2.
Even if Ian managed to look past my finger, it was still a bit like asking him to find Waldo.
I straightened, and he looked up at me. “What’s up,” I asked. Then he hugged my arm. “Aw, I love you, too,” I said.
The first time this happened, I was ever so surprised to find myself sucking on Ian’s pacifier as I buckled his seatbelt.
I’m being given a second chance at early-childhood psychology under the guidance of my son, Professor Watch-Me-Do-This.
In his quest to walk, Ian has recruited the help of a PLAYSKOOL walker, which looks something like a cross between a lawnmower and a payphone. At first he was skeptical of the walker. His grasp on the handle was tentative, and he took lurching, doubtful steps. He became more and more confident in his […]
Sometimes he gives himself away by shaking his head before he’s done anything. He’s a terrible Poker player.