Progress

Today was a good day. The sun was out (even if it's still below 20 degrees), I got most of the downstairs cleaned, and I taught Grady how to clap his hands. Both boys got baths, I got a load of laundry done, and I finished and (Mike) mailed the invites for my future sister-in-law's bridal shower. And I got a caramel vanilla latte as a treat from my dear husband. Yes, it was a good day.

Evan said something to me this afternoon, and it was so funny and sweet and wise, and I thought to myself, "I have to blog that later." Well, here we are later and I can't remember what the heck he said. It just figures. He just has so much to say now, and I can't believe I'm writing this but I can hardly remember when he wasn't talking anymore. Two years ago, I thought he would never say a word, and I felt like that time would never end. And now I can't tell you when he started making sounds and when they turned into words and when the words turned into sentences that now are parts of jokes that he tells or narratives about his day at school. For all of the trouble he's had, that kid never ceases to amaze me.

Grady, for his part, seems to be developing like a little textbook baby. He crawls like a champ, he can sit (and get himself in and out of a sitting position), he pulls himself to stand, he cruises on furniture and walls and tries to take steps but chickens out at the last second. My dad thinks he'll be walking by his birthday, and I wouldn't be surprised. He babbles and screeches and squawks. And today he learned to clap his hands. Perhaps his "normal" development will be a gift to us, something we won't have to worry about so much and can just enjoy.

I'm ready to enjoy some quiet time with Mike. The boys are both in their own beds, and "The Muppets Take Manhattan" is on TCM tonight. Sounds like my kind of evening.