Citius, Altius, Fortius

Bug is now closing out Hour Two of a not-too-often-seen-around-
these-parts afternoon nap, which is simultaneously awesome and disconcerting. Awesome because it let me lie motionless on the couch and watch Disc 2 of the eight hour Thorn Birds miniseries I checked out of the library (Summary: Forbidden love! Tragedies! Fake accents! Sheep!) and disconcerting because Bug was born with a daily sleep quota, and once it’s reached he is NOT going over that total, yo. So my evening lying motionless on the couch crossword puzzle/giant bowl of ice cream time is being severely compromised as we speak. Oh, the THRILLING WHIRLWIND that is my daily schedule.

Methinks he is going through a growth spurt however, because he has been something of a klutz lately, tripping over his own feet and knocking about more than usual, and also (and more telling): he’s been eating the crusts of his peanut butter and banana sandwiches. I don’t know if you’ve been around many young children, but if they eat the crusts of their sandwich, it’s pretty definite that either A) they’re growing and therefore are simply eating anything put before them or B) end times are nigh.

Also we may have had some idea about Growth Spurt ’08 because of, um, this:


True, there are five months in between the last two marks, but that’s because we kept standing him up next to the doorjamb every couple of weeks, convinced he’d grown, but he was still hovering right around that 3/20 mark. This went on into the summer, I’m pretty sure. And then the klutzy-ness and chowing down and sleeping began and KABLAM he’s Wilt Chamberlain, Jr. Uh, minus the sexual conquests thing.

So I’m going to let him keep on sleeping, cookies and cream be damned. What with the Olympics grooming I’m doing with him for nine golds in 2024, we need all the inches we can get. And with the height well under way we can get to tackling that pesky terror of water thing.



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