22 Month Report

One of the quirks of parenthood is that chances are good you know a friend or family member who ends up having a child shortly before you do. Such a child acts as a bellwether for your own child's development. Dealing with your own child day-to-day, as well as the minutia of life, often obscures development, or at least removes the focus from it (regular readers will detect this running theme of the blog, and likely not for the first time wonder aloud, "They let him care for children?"). You end up surfing through days that turn into weeks that turn into months, with little thought besides what you have to do at work or when the next Burn Notice is on, then you spend time with your little Canary Cousin and come away thinking, "Oh yeah, they can do that too", or more to the point, "Wow, I can't believe they're going to be doing that in a matter of weeks". It's not an exact science of course, since all children develop at different rates, but nevertheless, such is the service Linda's son Jalen provides to us, whom we saw yesterday at his 2nd birthday party.

Getting ready for supper yesterday, I was about ready to go grab one of the high chairs we brought up for the girls (Granny possessing the other). Kayla and Megan still take every meal in their high chairs; we know they do OK in booster seats from experience at mom's, but typically we're slow in changing such habits, mainly because the more restrictive devices tend to offer a measure of control as well. This is one of the major reasons the baby gate separating the kitchen and living room was only taken down this week, despite the fact the girls have been able-bodied enough to simply remove it themselves should they wish it gone for quite some time now. Mommy and Daddy's binky's, as it were. But back to the high chair: Linda told me not to bother, since Jalen would just sit at the kitchen table chair.

Would he, now?

Yes, as it turns out. I had doubts when he sat down and his nose was level with the table, but Linda just told him to get up on his knees, and all was well. I'm trying to imagine the scenario in which I would have casually suggested a similar course of action for the girls, and honestly most of them involve promises of game show winnings/riches. And yet I have to remind myself: There, but for 2 months, go we. Give or take.

Scenario #2. Granny and Grandpa have a swingset-on-steroids in their backyard, which the girls gravitated to at one point. But they're too little for such a playground still, they couldn't possibly climb the ladder to go down the slide, right? Wrong again, Superdad. The truth is yes, they are probably a bit too little for it, as it took myself and two heroic in-laws to manage the scene, but again the question lingers: For How Long???

Language skills continue to amaze as well. Last night, headed home after cake and ice cream (or rather, some strange new creation I call "ice cake"), Megan entertained herself/fought off sleep by singing the first two words of "Happy Birthday", tune relatively intact. Now, like most families I would imagine, we're not given to spontaneously bursting into Happy Birthday choruses for no reason, and byzantine copyright laws ensure that the girls are not hearing it regularly on television. The point being, when was the last time they would have heard this song? Many months ago? Yet there Megan is, disappointing us when the song morphs into Ring Around the Rosie. You probably saw the Wiggles video previously; this is another song that has only improved with practice. Is it too soon to start them on a diet of Decemberists and Cardigans? Experts are divided.

It gets you thinking, occasionally: Are we babying our baby's too much? As mentioned, we're slow to change habits that make life easier for us, one of the pratfalls of having to keep track of two at any given moment I think. Well, a pratfall of life really, but life all-encompassing is not the subject of this blog. Are we ridiculous for feeding 22 month old children in high chairs? Is it silly that we still feel nervous when they're back in their bedroom silent for more than a few minutes?

Then again, there are often stark reminders that you own underwear older than they are, literally. I'm in the office this morning, taking care of various server updates, while Jenn's at home taking the "We didn't get enough sleep last night, we've got a bout of diaper rash, and there just isn't a whole lot right in the world" bullet you still occasionally have to deal with. I just called to see how it was going, and would officially classify it as "hectic, with a 30% chance of chaotic".

Hurry up, Windows Server 2003 Service Pack 2 install.