Hard to believe that we met Quinn almost a month ago. He's racking up the accomplishments. He's learned to give kisses, to say 'baba' and 'mama' and to eat popcorn, and to wave and say 'bye bye', and to use the hand sign for 'more'. Actually, given the way he eats, I think we're going to be seeing a whole lot of the sign for 'more'.
This morning he added a new one . . . balancing a cheerio on his nose while singing and dancing in his high chair to Jason Mraz. And yes, I do solemnly promise to improve his taste in music, but you gotta give me more than just one month.
Last week, Quinn had his first doctor's appointment, and it went great. He actually slept through the first 20 mins of the exam, which was a little disconcerting for the nurse trying to weigh and measure him. The doc says he is a healthy kid, which we already knew. She was surprised, I think, by how big he is and how on target he is developmentally. He enjoyed the doctor visit . . . especially the part at the end where all the ladies on the office ooohed and aaahed over him and gave him stickers.
Calliope spends her time alternating between being happy to have a playmate to be silly with, and wearing a permanent 'big sister scowl'. I know exactly how she feels. I remember very well what it was like to have a baby brother show up all of a sudden, and to hope and hope that a hole would open up in the earth's crust and swallow him down. Or that an alien ship would beam him up. Or that pirates would decide to carry him off as a cabin boy. (Sorry, Keith- love ya!). Right now, he's following her like a puppy, and she's trying to find a place to hide and pout. It'll get better, kiddo. I actually started to *like* my brother by the time I was in college.
Tomorrow is my birthday, and I've requested that Aaron make me a honeycomb cake, just like the ones I had in Guangzhou. Clearly, he doesn't realize that the recipe takes 36 hrs to prepare, since I do not see any rice fermenting in the fridge. Hmmph.
-starla
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