Random Random Random Random

This, to me, is the sign that we've hit some wonderful new phase of the boy's life. No longer his he a baby or a toddler operating on pure need and fulfillment of said need (the way Max has redefined "now" for me is the subject of a whole other, very long, post). Now (as I define it), though, there are enough neurons in ye olde baby noggin that we're getting some interesting feedback loops on the data output. Case and point: The sock on the hand. A few days ago, it became very important to spend a good portion of Max's day with a sock on one hand.

Two nights ago, despite all offers to remove the sock before bedtime, Max went to bed with one sock on his hand. In the morning, once he was awake, I went into his room. Let's keep in mind: at this point, he's been in his crib, awake, for a good half an hour. Once he decides to, he'll stand up and call for "maa-MAA! and/or "daaa-DEEE" until we get in there. Usually, I'll go in, we'll do a little "good morning" song and dance routine before I lift him out of the crib and get the day going. It's all very bucolic and charming, lemme tellya. The morning after bedding down with his sock, as I opened his bedroom door and began my "good morning" song, I was interrupted by a little twenty month-old voice from the dark corner of the crib: "Soooo-OOOOCK?!" It had come off during the night and now (as he defines it) we had to find the sock.

I pretty pleased and a little disturbed by this development. On one hand, I can be my normal, random self and Max'll kinda get it. On the other hand, does the world need a dork as dorky as me?

We found the sock, got it back on his hand and then got on with our day. Our normal, happy, one-sock-on-our-hands day.