We had the big family gathering first-birthday party for The Girl last weekend. It went really well – any parent can tell you that watching a one-year-old try to eat cake is sheer glory – but it was also a little sad. To make room for her new stuff, The Wife and I had to go through some of her old toys and decide which to keep, which to give away, and which to toss. The Girl will be our last, so we can’t just store everything in the attic, like we did with The Boy. It’s hard to say goodbye to stuffed animals, teething toys, and the twirlin’-whirlin’-garden.
She’s a remarkably happy, even-tempered baby. She smiles easily (showing all six teeth!), and loves watching The Boy run his crazed-mongoose laps around the house.
We brought down a few of The Boy’s old toys from the attic, since The Girl is the right age to enjoy them now. One of them was a little dumptruck with a standing handle (like a shopping cart), to use like a walker. He used to love careening into the kitchen cabinets with it. Now the handle comes up to his knees.
(The pediatrician told us that The Boy is on track to be about six-four, but admitted that it’s a conservative estimate. He’s astonishingly tall for his age. I hope he gets his mother’s coordination.)
They’re great kids. The Boy can try us to our last nerves and beyond, but it’s not malicious – he’s just incredibly energetic, inquisitive, and well-spoken. High-maintenance, heaven knows, but for the right reasons. And The Girl is a sweetie, with an endearing cackle when she does something she’s not supposed to.
We’re very lucky. It’s nice to be reminded of that from time to time.
