This weekend was kidapalooza. We had a get together at our neighbor's house, with the bouncy house and everything. There were a few truck ownership negotiations to be worked out among the 2-4 year olds, but all in all it was a lot of fun. We also went to IKEA and found an appropriate first pillow for Cooper along with a froggy blanket. He is officially very happy.
The next day was kind of rainy and gross and we spent most of the day inside. Until late afternoon when we all, and I mean ALL hit the street. There were no less than 9 kids under the age of 6 on bikes and scooters and running around, along with all of their parents. At some point Cooper had gotten his hands on some drinking straws in our house, so he came out with them in his hands. Soon he had his buddies Liam and Carter hanging out with him sharing straws.
I can't help but think if you replaced the straws with cigars, you would get an idea of what they will look like when they are old men, or in a fraternity.
Cooper checked out a scooter for the first time. He is a super cautious kid, so there was a lot of standing on it, but not moving.
There are so many times I look at Cooper and I see no sign that he is my child. He looks so much like Bob, and like his much older brothers and nothing like me (he so did NOT get those curls from me) I wonder if I contributed anything at all to his genetic makeup. But then he does something like gets upset by a change in his routine, or sighs this deeply contended sigh and says "naaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaap" when I put him down for his nap and I realize that sometimes genetic contributions come in forms other than looks. My mother will tell you that I LOVED my routine (still do) and I truly love sleeping. And we finally got in the pool today for more than 5 minutes. The kid LOVES to swim. That is truly my child.