take that, dochole!
L just started crawling in earnest this morning. He's been threatening to for a while; he'll get on all fours, crawl maybe a step or two, think better of it and settle into his commando crawl again. Or he'll reconsider and just sit up.
Today was different. You could see the gears turning in his head; he finally got it, that he could just book his butt over to the other side of the room and play with drawers before Mommy or Daddy gets wise, if only he crawled there. He crawled at the physical therapist's office. He pulls himself to standing like he's done it for ages already, complete with an expression of absolute boredom on his face. He sequenced the genome for an endangered rodent. He picks things up off the floor after he's dropped them there. He puts blocks back in the plastic jug after he's gotten them out. (Well, maybe I was making the middle one up.)
He's so curious about his world and everything in it (particularly shiny things -- that's our magpie) that the PT said he's not retarded, since retarded kids aren't curious about their environment in the way that L is.
"Curious", maybe, isn't really applicable to L. "Attacks life with both friggin hands while making dinosaur noises" is probably more appropriate -- Mammamer now calls it his war cry.
My son has a war cry before I do? Awesome!