This little guy is growing by leaps and bounds. He is pulling up on things now - even though he still doesn't crawl or sit very steadily. And he claps! It's got to be the cutest thing I've ever seen! :)
He most often claps when he's eating. He's been on solids and rice cereal for about a month (actually, he started on my birthday, so it's easy to remember). He likes bananas best. Then sweet potatoes. Carrots finish dead last. Yuck, says Cory. Anyway, he likes to take a bite, then suck his thumb (the only time he does that), then clap. Then another bite. So funny. We started him on cereal after six months, whereas Iain started at four. There's a huge difference in the learning curve. Those extra two months really gave Cory a boost; he already eats like a pro.
Here's a before and after of Banana Boy.
Cory likes drums, just like Iain. I think I'll have a houseful of drummers. :) Cory mostly likes to grab the bass drum pedal, pull back, and release. Or just chew on it.
Here's the little guy learning to drive...
Tell me this isn't one of the sweetest fellows you've ever seen? And what funny faces he makes!
Iain: I want to paint the house purple. That's fun. Let's go do it! Bye-bye. Mama, open the door for you [he gets "me" and "you" mixed up. Same with "my favorite" and "your favorite."]. I paint the house purple! Me: No, we're not going to paint the house. Iain, whining: Okay! I will paint the houuuuse! I will paint the house purple. I will paint the house purple. I will paint the house purple... open the door for me. Open the door for me. Open the door for me. Paint the house purple (and on and on it goes).
Iain, a monologue: A ba-nah-na? Now what? The alien falls down. He slips on the ba-nah-na (it's the same every time! He's talking about a scene from his movie William's Wish Wellingtons, which is British, accounting for the accent on the word banana. This is the face he makes every time he says it.).
And for the record, when Iain says "thank you," it sounds like "hey zhoo."
This look is called, inexplicably, the Pirate Face:
The other day in Nona's pool, Iain spent most of his time either doing this:
transcription: Iain: Bajeebers! Me: What are you doing, Iain? Iain: Smacking bajeebers...out.
The other day, I rearranged all the furniture in the living room (don't tell me you never get that bug). There was an indentation in the carpet left from the couch leg. Iain called it his "pot" (spot) and spent a while looking at it. I asked what he was looking at, and he said a "hhnail" (snail). Okaaaay. Then he got up and sat on it and said he was thinking. I asked what he was thinking about... Iain: Elephant. (?!?)
On the way home from buying a pack of watercolors for the Iain, Iain: I am happy for my colors. (can you see his reflection upside down in the plate?)
This one takes some explaining. Iain doesn't care for broccoli. I had read of a mom calling broccoli "dinosaur trees" to make it more fun to eat. So for several weeks, every time we ate it (fairly often), I'd ask Iain if he wanted some. Finally, he grew exasperated with my continual disregard for its actual name and said in an annoyed tone Iain: I don't want to eat broccoli like a dinosaur!
Only six green tomatoes. Small, hard, unripe, hanging promisingly among the leaves. Remember the springtime garden? Two hardy tomato plants survived, producing these hopeful fruits. I just looked at them this morning, wondering when they would ripen enough to eat.
Then later, I am engrossed in something besides keeping a close eye on Iain...
...which proves a fatal mistake, for the tomatoes...
...I hear the chirping voice: "Mama, balls!"
All six. Do I laugh, scold, or sigh? All three. And take pictures.
