Jack climbed into bed this morning. He said, "Remember when I had my surgery?" It was just a shade over a year ago. Yes, Jack. "Remember when I got those three bears, because I was so brave?" He'd gotten 2 (actually) little stuffed bears. Yes, Jack. "And remember they had little shirts on? I don't know where those are." Then: "I can still see my surgery." He has very, very faint scars. Yes, a little bit. But not much.
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When I pick Kate up out of the crib, she kind of does a full body hug, pressing her face and neck into my shoulder. That's nice.
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She claps when she's happy. Sometimes it's in response to something, like us laughing or clapping, and sometimes she just all of a sudden smiles and claps, like she's thought of something wonderful.
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She's standing up a lot now. On her own. Not walking yet. I sit facing her, when she's standing, and hold my hand out, to get her to walk. What she does is take one step and then flop forward into my arms, laughing. She's getting there.
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A while back I became a writer. In January 2005 I became a Dad. Shortly after that I started this blog thing. And here we are.
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