I’m endlessly fascinated by the growing complexity of our boys’ minds.  Things that they just couldn’t grasp weeks or even days ago are suddenly just second nature.  Watching them learn how to move their hands was amazing, and even more so when they suddenly realized what they were doing.  When we first gave them solid foods, and they learned bit by bit how to chew, and move food around with their tongue, and then to spit it out at us.  When they began playing with toys, the would just bat at them, and then just chew on them, then hit them on the window.  And then suddenly they’re putting things together, putting toys in jars, putting on the lids and shaking them until we can’t think a single coherent thought.

The reason I bring it up is that something interesting happened today.  Nic was having an off day.  His nap was too short, and he just wasn’t himself all afternoon.  We’d calm him down, and he’d be happy for a few minutes, but then he’d try to run down the hallway and get a little too excited, slip and fall and bump his head, and we’d spend the next 15 minutes calming him down again.  I suggested to Katie that she take off his socks, so he’d have better traction.  I was in the family room, cleaning up some of their toys, when Nic came over to me, holding his socks.  He sat down, and started poking his toes with the sock, and then looking up at me.  And then he held the sock out to me.  The little bugger asked me to put his socks on for him.  How bloody cool is that?

Okay, well, one sock.  After the first one, he looked at his other sock, which was in a kind of ball, and he lost interest, stood off, squealed, and ran off into the kitchen.  Nic.  My boy.  He wanted a sock on.

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