On Sunday, when he’s not finding hidden eggs but rather focusing on eating dead leaves in the backyard, Theo will be nine months old. Today he and his daycare buddy Walter chased each other around the bedroom using an old jungle gym play mat for base. How can this have happened so quickly? The first month crawled. Months two through four hobbled. And then we all time-traveled together to this place where Steve and I have a toddler who loves bananas and hates eggs (oh the horror). Tiny T knows how to pet his furry older sisters gently but is sneaky enough to sense when I’m not looking and ears and tails are easy targets again. He cuddles in the evening and sings his blanket, Lambbeary, to bed each night. He loves shouting “Da Da” when he is happy, but he invariably sobs “mamama” when he falls down.
So he crawls, he stands (on everything), he walks pushing his train around the house, but can he solve the meaning of life? So far he’s definitely given us extra meaning. Perhaps that is the meaning? Perhaps I’m sleep-deprived and reading too much into this procreation business.
More hi-larious videos and photos on the way. It’s hard to beat a speedy baby obsessed with a vacuum cleaner. Or his first unassisted steps behind his giant toy train. Next week I had better hide the car keys.