Oh, that's right... it's the day before lent.
But this year, it is also the day we got to hear the baby's heartbeat for the first time. It's the day we let ourselves exhale and finally start to get ex-sigh-ted about the fact that katy is going to start to get FAAAAAAAHAT. She got my baby growing inside of her!
We tried 4 times and found out 5 days after Christmas. Everyone that knows us in "real life" has known about it for a while now... Some people in Ohio knew when the p-stick was a few minutes ripe, but we waited for the little "whoosh-whoosh-whoosh-whoosh" we got to hear at the prenatal appointment today to put it out there on our facebook accounts and up here on the GSO.
There will be a lot more to follow, but for now, there are posts I wrote but didn't publish until now. Follow the label "new baby" to catch up.
We're going to bed now. It's been a happy day, but a long one... it's time to get some shut eye!
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Sunday, February 22, 2009
The crawl
There is so much going on that the desire to blog consumes me and the actualization of that desire is delusional.
Work is aclusterfuck horror-show right now. We've been experiencing chaotic institutional change and threats that are imagined, perceived, and alarmingly real. Obviously, the details are too ripe to post here, but take my word for it: SNAFU of the highest order. "Fight-flight" and the power-charge you get from an emergent challenge take you far for about 5 weeks. I've been working all day, coming home and powering up the laptop until well after bedtime.
At the beginning, I was even in good spirits about it - it's been like a slow code and I do miss the old days of hanging blood, cracking ribs, and pushing epinephrine. But now, my brain is turning to mush and my psyche is pretty badly dinged up. I keep my wits about me, literally. Keeping my team laughing is probably my central purpose at this point, but every day brings another detail that is essentially no laughing matter. If you had told me a few months ago what would be going on right now, I would have laughed, slapped your ass, and told you to shove off. Needless to say, I have needed to put a lot more time and energy into work. But more than hours, the shit there is practically always on my mind. It's a veil over my head and I'm distracted by it all the time. Entire 8 or 10 hour work days go by without me having the mental where-with-all to call home. (Not the literal, physical "home" we live in [no one is there during the work day], but the day care or the cell phone that katy carries around when she takes my "home/heart" out into the world.)
Katy is holding down the fort of sanity right now. Trouble is, she is physically compromised due to the fig-sized fetus that we planted inside of her several weeks ago. We have been trying to keep it a little mum, but now that Mackenzie knows about it, the cat is pretty much out of the bag. Always in the form of a question, she knows all and tells the world as much:
Mac 7 weeks ago: "Why are you toasting? Why are you saying congratulations to katy? Why? what's going on?"
Mac 4 weeks ago: "Where is Katy? Why is katy home? Why is katy sleeping? Why does Katy's belly hurt her?"
Mac 1 week ago: "You have a baby in there?" "You're having a baby?" "The baby makes you sick?" "You are having a baby grow in your belly?" "Katy has a baby?" "What's the baby's name?"
We will hopefully hear the baby's heartbeat on Tuesday. And then we will welcome the unadulterated sigh of celebratory planning.
As eluded to above, Katy has been feeling craptastic. Puking, dry heaves, queasy and everything like that. She is falling asleep on the couch at about 7 or 8pm daily. Then she wakes up, and heads to bed between 9 and 10pm beckoning me to accompany her.
Aside from being puky, she is physically warm- a veritable incubator. When i crawl into bed next to her, the temperature is shocking. It is so unusual for her to be throwing this much heat, that I sometimes imagine a hatted, southpaw fetus, spitting fluid and getting ready for the big show.
Today, after a wicked work week capped off by a very fun but kind of crazed-paced Saturday, it rained. It rained the kind of cold rain that should be snow. The kind of cold rain you expect in February. Rain that is 2 or 3 degrees too warm to ice over busy highways. Two years ago, rain like that on a Sunday would have put my wife and me under covers watching movies in bed all day.
Today we had the 1.5 year old to entertain. We putzed and played and grew a tiny bit bored and at some point threw our swimsuits on under our sweats and headed out to the pool. That's right, we belong to a pool. I know what you're thinking, "but we've never heard you speak of 'the pool' before???" When I was pregnant with JB (and even before that) we swam quite a bit- we went to the pool a few times a week to swim laps. And then the pregnancy progressed, and then the c-section, and then all the breastfeeding, and then the baby was too little, and then katy went back to work, and then I went back to work, and then all the ear infections, and don't forget about the laziness... you get the picture.
For some people this is a no brainer - "Quit the pool!!! JUST STOP SENDING YOUR 40 BUCKS EVERY MONTH!!!" But for us this gets all wrapped up in why we're not more active, and not wanting to give up on fitness and being "ready" to work out if the opportunity presents itself. It's hard to stop spending money on the gamble that you might wake up one day and want to suddenly be a better, healthier person.
So we take JB for the first time to the pool that there is no way for him to know he is a member of. It's not the first time he's been in water or a pool, but there is a unique feature of our pool. The kiddie-pool shallow part is a ramp. You walk into it like you are walking into the ocean. Allow me to explain with a visual image that is not really drawn to scale:
The Dark Blue is the regular, larger part of one of the pools (it is longer and wider than it appears here). That pool is 4 to 7 feet deep and the red lines indicate swim lanes. The Yellow is the beginning of the ramp and has water only barely covering your toes. The Green part is 5-7 feet of water that is less than a foot deep, and the Aqua area gradually goes to 2-ish feet as you round the corner and head into the bigger pool. The point of all of this is that JB gets to walk into and around in water that is waist and chest high and doesn't have to be carried all around to explore pool/swimming options.
He started hesitant, but quickly grew to enjoy himself. At first, he wouldn't walk into the water but wanted to be carried. After he realized that he could safely navigate the shallow water, he wanted to explore. Several times he walked right into water that was higher than his mouth or fell completely into water that was a foot deep. We were right there to buoy him up and he came out of the drink every time coughing and sputtering a little, but also laughing.
Watching him in this environment might have been my favorite hour of parenting so far. It was relaxing and simplistic; exciting and mellow. It doesn't hurt that I like the water so much myself. Just being in shallow water with my wife and son made me so happy. For a split second, I wished we had the camera to take photos or video, but I quickly tossed that notion aside. "Be.here.now." I told myself. There was no way to really document these feelings anyway.
JB was beside himself with what can only be described as excited joy. When he ventured out a little bit alone with me, I would point out katy to him. From a distance, he would flail about ecstatic when he caught a glimpse of her. When she had him and his eyes re-located me, he would excitedly slap his chest like a gorilla. But mostly we were all three together. We passed him back and forth, log-tossed him a little. Put him on a kick-board, let him hang on to our floating toes... He put his face in the water, tried to imitate me blowing bubbles, he got on his belly to "swim", he got on his back and "kicked", he held onto my neck and rode on my back as I took him into the bigger pool. By the end, he was walking in an out pretty independently. Then, he was jumping from a seated position and then standing position into my arms off the side of the pool. I couldn't have been prouder if he suddenly counted to 100. It was nothing but fun. And I guess if we needed to quantify it, totally worth the year and 1/2 of membership dues that we obligingly paid despite not using the facilities.
Work is a
At the beginning, I was even in good spirits about it - it's been like a slow code and I do miss the old days of hanging blood, cracking ribs, and pushing epinephrine. But now, my brain is turning to mush and my psyche is pretty badly dinged up. I keep my wits about me, literally. Keeping my team laughing is probably my central purpose at this point, but every day brings another detail that is essentially no laughing matter. If you had told me a few months ago what would be going on right now, I would have laughed, slapped your ass, and told you to shove off. Needless to say, I have needed to put a lot more time and energy into work. But more than hours, the shit there is practically always on my mind. It's a veil over my head and I'm distracted by it all the time. Entire 8 or 10 hour work days go by without me having the mental where-with-all to call home. (Not the literal, physical "home" we live in [no one is there during the work day], but the day care or the cell phone that katy carries around when she takes my "home/heart" out into the world.)
Katy is holding down the fort of sanity right now. Trouble is, she is physically compromised due to the fig-sized fetus that we planted inside of her several weeks ago. We have been trying to keep it a little mum, but now that Mackenzie knows about it, the cat is pretty much out of the bag. Always in the form of a question, she knows all and tells the world as much:
Mac 7 weeks ago: "Why are you toasting? Why are you saying congratulations to katy? Why? what's going on?"
Mac 4 weeks ago: "Where is Katy? Why is katy home? Why is katy sleeping? Why does Katy's belly hurt her?"
Mac 1 week ago: "You have a baby in there?" "You're having a baby?" "The baby makes you sick?" "You are having a baby grow in your belly?" "Katy has a baby?" "What's the baby's name?"
We will hopefully hear the baby's heartbeat on Tuesday. And then we will welcome the unadulterated sigh of celebratory planning.
As eluded to above, Katy has been feeling craptastic. Puking, dry heaves, queasy and everything like that. She is falling asleep on the couch at about 7 or 8pm daily. Then she wakes up, and heads to bed between 9 and 10pm beckoning me to accompany her.
Aside from being puky, she is physically warm- a veritable incubator. When i crawl into bed next to her, the temperature is shocking. It is so unusual for her to be throwing this much heat, that I sometimes imagine a hatted, southpaw fetus, spitting fluid and getting ready for the big show.
Today, after a wicked work week capped off by a very fun but kind of crazed-paced Saturday, it rained. It rained the kind of cold rain that should be snow. The kind of cold rain you expect in February. Rain that is 2 or 3 degrees too warm to ice over busy highways. Two years ago, rain like that on a Sunday would have put my wife and me under covers watching movies in bed all day.
Today we had the 1.5 year old to entertain. We putzed and played and grew a tiny bit bored and at some point threw our swimsuits on under our sweats and headed out to the pool. That's right, we belong to a pool. I know what you're thinking, "but we've never heard you speak of 'the pool' before???" When I was pregnant with JB (and even before that) we swam quite a bit- we went to the pool a few times a week to swim laps. And then the pregnancy progressed, and then the c-section, and then all the breastfeeding, and then the baby was too little, and then katy went back to work, and then I went back to work, and then all the ear infections, and don't forget about the laziness... you get the picture.
For some people this is a no brainer - "Quit the pool!!! JUST STOP SENDING YOUR 40 BUCKS EVERY MONTH!!!" But for us this gets all wrapped up in why we're not more active, and not wanting to give up on fitness and being "ready" to work out if the opportunity presents itself. It's hard to stop spending money on the gamble that you might wake up one day and want to suddenly be a better, healthier person.
So we take JB for the first time to the pool that there is no way for him to know he is a member of. It's not the first time he's been in water or a pool, but there is a unique feature of our pool. The kiddie-pool shallow part is a ramp. You walk into it like you are walking into the ocean. Allow me to explain with a visual image that is not really drawn to scale:
The Dark Blue is the regular, larger part of one of the pools (it is longer and wider than it appears here). That pool is 4 to 7 feet deep and the red lines indicate swim lanes. The Yellow is the beginning of the ramp and has water only barely covering your toes. The Green part is 5-7 feet of water that is less than a foot deep, and the Aqua area gradually goes to 2-ish feet as you round the corner and head into the bigger pool. The point of all of this is that JB gets to walk into and around in water that is waist and chest high and doesn't have to be carried all around to explore pool/swimming options.
He started hesitant, but quickly grew to enjoy himself. At first, he wouldn't walk into the water but wanted to be carried. After he realized that he could safely navigate the shallow water, he wanted to explore. Several times he walked right into water that was higher than his mouth or fell completely into water that was a foot deep. We were right there to buoy him up and he came out of the drink every time coughing and sputtering a little, but also laughing.
Watching him in this environment might have been my favorite hour of parenting so far. It was relaxing and simplistic; exciting and mellow. It doesn't hurt that I like the water so much myself. Just being in shallow water with my wife and son made me so happy. For a split second, I wished we had the camera to take photos or video, but I quickly tossed that notion aside. "Be.here.now." I told myself. There was no way to really document these feelings anyway.
JB was beside himself with what can only be described as excited joy. When he ventured out a little bit alone with me, I would point out katy to him. From a distance, he would flail about ecstatic when he caught a glimpse of her. When she had him and his eyes re-located me, he would excitedly slap his chest like a gorilla. But mostly we were all three together. We passed him back and forth, log-tossed him a little. Put him on a kick-board, let him hang on to our floating toes... He put his face in the water, tried to imitate me blowing bubbles, he got on his belly to "swim", he got on his back and "kicked", he held onto my neck and rode on my back as I took him into the bigger pool. By the end, he was walking in an out pretty independently. Then, he was jumping from a seated position and then standing position into my arms off the side of the pool. I couldn't have been prouder if he suddenly counted to 100. It was nothing but fun. And I guess if we needed to quantify it, totally worth the year and 1/2 of membership dues that we obligingly paid despite not using the facilities.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Official onset of the supposed "terrrible twos"
I came home late last night.
Katy was beside herself: "He's been awful."
He cried and screamed through dinner.
Threw his food.
Pushed at furniture.
Threw toys.
When she reprimanded him at one point, he reached up and grabbed a fist full of food and smeared it on her pants as a way to reprimand her.
He kicked, stormed, ran away, and then I came home.
And we got him to bed ASAP
This morning, he decided he didn't want to be on the changing table.
Yes, God forbid we put these soft, clean clothes on you...
He grabbed my hand and while looking me in the eye, sunk his teeth into the fleshy part of my hand.
As Katy and I had discussed strategy last night, I put him into his first ever time out. Naked (wrapped in the towel), he sat in the corner for 60 seconds.
Crying ensued.
I ignored him except to say,
"You bit mommy and you're in time out."
When Katy got out of the shower, she heard about the biting and said, "We don't bite." He got a devastated look on his face, and we both tried hard not to comfort him.
"Yes, Mama," I said, "He had to go into time out."
When the minute was over, he was remarkably calm... on the changing table.
I think we have a spirited, free thinker on our hands, who might spend the next 20 years "testing" boundaries. But I consider this early attempt at discipline a smashing success.
I almost feel bad. The bite didn't really even hurt. It was the staring contest he initiated during the bite that made me feel like I needed to take action.
Katy was beside herself: "He's been awful."
He cried and screamed through dinner.
Threw his food.
Pushed at furniture.
Threw toys.
When she reprimanded him at one point, he reached up and grabbed a fist full of food and smeared it on her pants as a way to reprimand her.
He kicked, stormed, ran away, and then I came home.
And we got him to bed ASAP
This morning, he decided he didn't want to be on the changing table.
Yes, God forbid we put these soft, clean clothes on you...
He grabbed my hand and while looking me in the eye, sunk his teeth into the fleshy part of my hand.
As Katy and I had discussed strategy last night, I put him into his first ever time out. Naked (wrapped in the towel), he sat in the corner for 60 seconds.
Crying ensued.
I ignored him except to say,
"You bit mommy and you're in time out."
When Katy got out of the shower, she heard about the biting and said, "We don't bite." He got a devastated look on his face, and we both tried hard not to comfort him.
"Yes, Mama," I said, "He had to go into time out."
When the minute was over, he was remarkably calm... on the changing table.
I think we have a spirited, free thinker on our hands, who might spend the next 20 years "testing" boundaries. But I consider this early attempt at discipline a smashing success.
I almost feel bad. The bite didn't really even hurt. It was the staring contest he initiated during the bite that made me feel like I needed to take action.
Monday, February 09, 2009
Seems like he can hear
JB's ability and willingness to repeat things we say is exploding. Everyday there are new sounds and it is very awesome.
New words never spoken before today:
"breakfast"
"excuse me"
New words never spoken before today:
"breakfast"
"excuse me"
Blow it out your swimmer's ear
You may remember, earlier in the year when I waxed poetic about Michael Phelps and his overpowering choppers? Well, at the time, I was a little hard on the guy. I guess I felt he was just a little too beloved. I mean, it was all "Michael Phelps" this and "Michael Phelps" that. People were going nuts. I never understand what it is that makes all kinds of folks want to gather up all their dreams and hopes and lay them like an laurel wreath on the head of a 24 year old freak of nature. But now, the walls come crashing down and people are shocked! SHOCKED, I say!!! Shocked that a 24 year old might take a hit off a bong.
"How dare he?"
"How could he?"
"What about the little children? "
"I'm just so disappointed in him!"
What is wrong with people?!? Are they for real?
Needless to say, public opinion turning against MP is all I needed to hop off the fence and become a true supporter and fan.
This is exactly what I wanted to say about the whole overblown, Michael Phelps-smoking-a-bong thing... especially the end of the video... SNL nails it.
Cancer in the court
I know this sounds a little draumatic, but I'm not kidding around...
If this news had come out before the election, I think I would have have had a freakin' stroke.
I mean, she hasn't exactly looked that virile for a while, but this chick -ahem, excuse me- associate justice, is the only waif standing between a nun chuck wielding John Roberts and the delicate crystal case holding my gay civil rights.
Stand back, pancreatic cancer... RBG will not go down without a fight! Stay strong, madam justice.
Saturday, February 07, 2009
Oh, I'm so behind on the "newletter" situation that I'm distressed about it.
But today we had several "firsts".
The first time JB booted all over himself. We woke up not to the oft heard whining and crying out, but to a happy-sounding boy, "Hi... Hi..." from the room next door. Katy and i both went in at six am and found him covered in a vile-bile smelling smammering of regurgitated food. It was clear by the odor, and the degree of mess that he got sick some time in the middle of the night and just moved out of the stuff to continue his slumber. Even in the am, he was un-phased, but we were a tad repulsed. He and I stripped down and got into the shower which was only part one of the cleansing process. After a third round of baby wash did not eliminate the stank, i filled the tub and sat down with him to commence with an honest-to-god scrubbing.
We then crawled into bed together and slept uncharacteristically late until 8:30 am.
It's pretty good to have gone 16 and 1/2 months without a major barf, but it puts us out of practice. We let him have a little water but he refused breakfast. When he got upgraded to a sippy cup filled with milk, he greedily drank, turning his head 10 minutes later to gulch up a slightly more diluted puddle of the white stuff onto the floor. Poor boo. Then at 10:30, he went down for his second 2 hour nap of the still young day.
JB's been saying please for a week or two now. It started as a barely recognizable "pbbbbbl-z" but now, pretty consistently sounds like, "peaz, peaz, peaz". We've had him signing "thank you" on occasion. Done correctly, "thank you" requires the tips of your fingers to start on your chin (palm facing your neck), then you bring your forearm down 90 degrees, ending in an open-palm position that seems to say "Can you give me five bucks?" When we ask him to say "thank you," (if he's inclined to want to impress us) he will lazily blow a kiss - which is essentially a "thank you" that starts a few centimeters too high. Today, out of the blue, when we asked him to say thank you, he put it out there verbally and with an impressive amount of accuracy for the first time. Something like, "They-k Ooo."
He says toes and shoes much more clearly than before and milk is another new word. The other day my mom left a message on the machine and though he will rarely if ever say her name to her, when he heard her voice from 2 rooms away, JB said as clear as day, "Nana."
JB now has 10 teeth that have poked through his gums. The pattern of sprouting is not scientific or predictable at all... Except for the first four (2 top, 2 bottom) they are not arriving "in order" at all... we never know where to even look for new teeth. Also, these suckers are sharp and I have a new respect for how much it must hurt to have these gums thrashed through to get the choppers out here.
The numbers are the order (to the best of my ability that these teeth cut through.) Numbers 1-4 are not listed because (as I have stated) they came first, but I am purposely vague about this b/c without doing a GSO search for information, I have no idea the order the 4 front teeth appeared in...
Other cute things:
He definitely gets "more". I observed him seeming to remember that he has a way to ask for more kisses today. I kissed him. He laughed. I kissed him some more. He laughed again. I stopped. He waited, expectantly. I got into a conversation with Katy. He looked at me and then at her and then at me again. He then looked down and after a few minutes, his eyes shot up again in a manner that seemed to be like a double-take. He signed "more" pretty emphatically. Since he usually only signs "more" for food-related desires, he caught me a little off-guard.
"More what?" I asked.
He opened his mouth and blew a kiss.
"oh, more kisses?"
He nodded. VFC (very f$%#ing cute).
He knows how to lock the breaks on the high chair and will stop dead in his tracks if he is walking by and notices the little yellow buttons are in the "unlock" position. (OCD much?) These things on the wheels are literally less than 1/2 inch big... the difference between the lock (down) and unlock (up) positions cannot be more than 5 degress, but he will walk by, turn around, and walk over using his right foot to step on the buttons and make them click into the lock position.
Last cuteness of the day that I will post here is that I put him on the treadmill for a few minutes. We were in the basement and he was all, "oooo, oooh, aahhh" pointing and gesturing to the treadmill. So I put it on the lowest spead, 0.5 mph and let him walk on it. I know I'm going to live to regret this later, and some of you are flipping open your phones right now to get the number to DCF, but it was pretty adorable...
I was all over him and careful to make sure if he lost his footing I could scoop him up before he even hit the floor. But I was amazed by his balance and control of his body. He liked walking fast and then stopping so that the treadmill brought him almost to the end. Right when he was about to be spun off, he would start marching faster to get to the front of the conveyor belt. I was a little proud.
But today we had several "firsts".
The first time JB booted all over himself. We woke up not to the oft heard whining and crying out, but to a happy-sounding boy, "Hi... Hi..." from the room next door. Katy and i both went in at six am and found him covered in a vile-bile smelling smammering of regurgitated food. It was clear by the odor, and the degree of mess that he got sick some time in the middle of the night and just moved out of the stuff to continue his slumber. Even in the am, he was un-phased, but we were a tad repulsed. He and I stripped down and got into the shower which was only part one of the cleansing process. After a third round of baby wash did not eliminate the stank, i filled the tub and sat down with him to commence with an honest-to-god scrubbing.
We then crawled into bed together and slept uncharacteristically late until 8:30 am.
It's pretty good to have gone 16 and 1/2 months without a major barf, but it puts us out of practice. We let him have a little water but he refused breakfast. When he got upgraded to a sippy cup filled with milk, he greedily drank, turning his head 10 minutes later to gulch up a slightly more diluted puddle of the white stuff onto the floor. Poor boo. Then at 10:30, he went down for his second 2 hour nap of the still young day.
JB's been saying please for a week or two now. It started as a barely recognizable "pbbbbbl-z" but now, pretty consistently sounds like, "peaz, peaz, peaz". We've had him signing "thank you" on occasion. Done correctly, "thank you" requires the tips of your fingers to start on your chin (palm facing your neck), then you bring your forearm down 90 degrees, ending in an open-palm position that seems to say "Can you give me five bucks?" When we ask him to say "thank you," (if he's inclined to want to impress us) he will lazily blow a kiss - which is essentially a "thank you" that starts a few centimeters too high. Today, out of the blue, when we asked him to say thank you, he put it out there verbally and with an impressive amount of accuracy for the first time. Something like, "They-k Ooo."
He says toes and shoes much more clearly than before and milk is another new word. The other day my mom left a message on the machine and though he will rarely if ever say her name to her, when he heard her voice from 2 rooms away, JB said as clear as day, "Nana."
JB now has 10 teeth that have poked through his gums. The pattern of sprouting is not scientific or predictable at all... Except for the first four (2 top, 2 bottom) they are not arriving "in order" at all... we never know where to even look for new teeth. Also, these suckers are sharp and I have a new respect for how much it must hurt to have these gums thrashed through to get the choppers out here.
The numbers are the order (to the best of my ability that these teeth cut through.) Numbers 1-4 are not listed because (as I have stated) they came first, but I am purposely vague about this b/c without doing a GSO search for information, I have no idea the order the 4 front teeth appeared in...
Other cute things:
He definitely gets "more". I observed him seeming to remember that he has a way to ask for more kisses today. I kissed him. He laughed. I kissed him some more. He laughed again. I stopped. He waited, expectantly. I got into a conversation with Katy. He looked at me and then at her and then at me again. He then looked down and after a few minutes, his eyes shot up again in a manner that seemed to be like a double-take. He signed "more" pretty emphatically. Since he usually only signs "more" for food-related desires, he caught me a little off-guard.
"More what?" I asked.
He opened his mouth and blew a kiss.
"oh, more kisses?"
He nodded. VFC (very f$%#ing cute).
He knows how to lock the breaks on the high chair and will stop dead in his tracks if he is walking by and notices the little yellow buttons are in the "unlock" position. (OCD much?) These things on the wheels are literally less than 1/2 inch big... the difference between the lock (down) and unlock (up) positions cannot be more than 5 degress, but he will walk by, turn around, and walk over using his right foot to step on the buttons and make them click into the lock position.
Last cuteness of the day that I will post here is that I put him on the treadmill for a few minutes. We were in the basement and he was all, "oooo, oooh, aahhh" pointing and gesturing to the treadmill. So I put it on the lowest spead, 0.5 mph and let him walk on it. I know I'm going to live to regret this later, and some of you are flipping open your phones right now to get the number to DCF, but it was pretty adorable...
I was all over him and careful to make sure if he lost his footing I could scoop him up before he even hit the floor. But I was amazed by his balance and control of his body. He liked walking fast and then stopping so that the treadmill brought him almost to the end. Right when he was about to be spun off, he would start marching faster to get to the front of the conveyor belt. I was a little proud.
Friday, February 06, 2009
Crank calls
It's a wonder we have never cranked called anyone we know. Or been visited by the police because we accidentally called 911.
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