The baby's at the Grand Folks' because Amy and I are using fumy chemicals to stain our new[ish] windows. Of course the benite treatment took us all of an hour to finish, leaving the rest of the night to sneak out to a nice dinner, watch some loud TV, steal Anya's air conditioner and hang it in our window (take that kid!)
Ah the embarrassingly simple pleasures of being a parent.
Anya is entering a fascinating stage. Not only has she begun playing with books and turning the pages while I read--thus allaying my fears that she'll be a mouth-breathing book hater--she's really starting to get the whole talking thing. She won't be giving commencement addresses any time soon, but I can tell she's getting the whole signified/signifier concept. This heralds the end of the developmental stage I was most terrified to experience: The random-crying-no-verbal-skills period where--in my pre-paternal imaginings--I saw my child exasperatedly trying to indicate her urgent need for an appendectomy while I insisted on shoveling strained peas in her mouth in hopes of getting her to stop wailing.
Now that it's almost over, I must admit it wasn't so bad!
As it turns out babies are pretty easy to understand. They have about three things that make them cry, all of which are pretty easy to remember, even when a kid is screaming. They don't simply cry because "the world is pain" until they're...adolescents!
Ah the simple needs of a child. How I'll miss thee!
But soon I'll have my first "remember when...?" nostalgia collector's card.
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