He's what, 8 months old? 9 months? Something.
This afternoon I looked up from doing dishes and Colin was standing up without holding on to anything. My first thought was, "Do you think I have time to finish washing this bowl before he falls down and starts screaming?"
With Oliver I would have dropped the bowl and gone running for my camera. I probably would have called somebody and told them about it. But not poor, neglected second child Colin. He'll be lucky if I remember to tell Jared about it at the dinner table.
It's not all bad for Colin, though. He might miss out on some of that special obsessiveness I used to have, but he is entitled to other benefits such as:
1. Eating a lot more dirt/paper/dog hair while being left unattended.
2. Being allowed to eat mac & cheese and ice cream at a ridiculous age.
3. Not having to put on airs and pretend that I put pants on him and/or comb his hair when we leave the house.
4. Exposure to a myriad of choking hazards around the house left from big brother.
5. Less frequent doctor visits, thanks to less noticing and fretting of weird symptoms.
When he gets older he'll probably complain that I never buy him new clothes or new toys. He'll probably complain that he can't take karate lessons or go to 1st grade or climb the tall parts of the jungle gym.
But for now? This kid is very excited about our lackluster parenting.
|Sitting by himself on the dirty monorail.|
|Antagonizing big brother.|
|Not having to walk at the zoo.|
|Stealing spaghetti from me.|
|Playing with the most obnoxious toys.|
|Terrorizing the dog without wearing any pants.|