Hamish ate baby carrots for a snack today, of his own volition. I'm floored. His daycare teacher came to the door and warned me that there might be some orange pieces in his mouth, that he was savoring them like chewing tabacco, and my eyes popped out of my head like Large Marge, and before I knew it, he was asking for more. I will try not to expect him to repeat this feat, but I will buy a fresh package of baby carrots anyway.
And he's started pretend reading books, like his miniature version of "The Little Red Hen." It sounds Japanese: "Hoo waa Gee fuh ball!" I can't wait to hear how it all turns out.
Stella ate banana and peas over the weekend. Bryan's mom and Grace, another of my mom-figures out in the country, got to talking about how back in the day, they'd spoon-feed their three-week olds, doctor's orders. It got me wondering what our children will look back on in bewilderment thirty years from now. Maybe all the assorted vibrating chairs and seats and swings we stash them in so we can blog.