Stella is especially affectionate. She tells me dozens of times a day that she loves me. Isn't that sweet? She is such a loving child. The downside is that it becomes increasingly difficult to know how to respond. The first couple times she tells me she loves me, I say, "I love you too." Then I switch to saying "Isn't it great how much we love each other?" Next I move to "We're lucky to have such a loving family." By the 39th time that day that she tells me that she loves me, my response gets stripped down to a simple "Yup." And then I ask her sign a contract pledging to financially support me in my old age.
Baby W is also being delightful, and has been doing a lot of communicating with us despite having limited verbal skills. He is learning baby signs language in leaps and bounds. He loves the attention he gets when he signs, and so he trots these signs out at every opportunity, regardless of whether the object he seeks to name are actually present. For example, he'll sign "bird" and point off toward the sky despite there being no bird in sight. Or he will sign "dog" and point down the road where in theory there could be a dog but isn't. I think this is because as a child with an open mind, he can perceive truths to which we adults have closed our consciousness. I think that he is trying to broaden our horizons to help us transcend the limits of what our eyes can see, understand how fluid even seemingly concrete objects are, and absorb the limitless possibilities of the world around us. Either that or he's fucking with us. Hard to tell.
|That is ice cream, not cat food,|
on his shirt
When he actually does see a dog, Baby W likes to remind us frequently that he sees said creature. By "frequently," I mean every five to seven seconds. From the frequency with which he reminds us about the dog, you can tell that he suspects not only do we not see that particular dog, but he is also concerned that we are not even aware such animals exist at all, and that we are laboring under the misperception that humans never domesticated wolves 14,000 years ago. Given all that, it's no wonder that he feels the need to alert us to the presence of any dogs, real or hypothetical, several times a minute. Another possibility is that he's fucking with us. (I'm sensing a theme here.)
Not only are the kids being particularly delightful these days, but Stella has started being nice to Baby W. A little. Occasionally. Between the hours of 1 PM and 3 PM on alternate Wednesdays. Still, that's an improvement. And they've even played together occasionally. I'm hoping that they soon will enjoy each other's company as much as I am enjoying theirs. And then we can all sit down together around the family table, for a dinner of some truly quality cat food.