Tonight after bedtime. . .

Parker: (from his bedroom) You have to come in here.
Me: (going in his room after ignoring him for several minutes) What?
Parker: My head is making a funny noise, listen. (start slapping himself on his head)
Me: ----!
Parker: See it's going "bong bong bong bong." I don't like it making that noise.
Me: Then stopping hitting yourself on the head.
Parker: But I like doing that.
Me: Go to sleep.

**FOLLOW UP: This morning hit woke up and tested hitting his head for the noise and said it was gone. . . that's when it hit me, he had water in his ear from his bath. Mystery solved.

The A Team

After his nap. . .

Parker: Did you play your game? (referring to a video game he has watched me play a little lately).
Me: No, I watched a movie during your nap.
Parker: What was it called?
Me: The A Team.
Parker: Oh. . . Like on Sesame Street?
Me: Sort of, only no furry monsters or a guy dressed up like a giant letter "A".
Parker: I like that Sesame Street show.

Getting bigger. . .

You always hear parents of older children (or even of adults) talking about "it" going by fast. "It" being the life of your child as they get older. I listen but I've always been OK with our little monkey getting older.

Moving from the crib to a bed, elicited nothing emotional for me. Neither did other milestones: solid foods, walking, talking, potty peeing—not even our recent trips to visit preschools made me feel sad that my baby was growing up.

Then last night we decided to eliminate his booster seat at the kitchen table. That choked me up a little. It's not like he hasn't sat at other tables without a booster seat before—and if anything it makes him look shorter when he sits at the table—but for some reason that has made me think of him as grown up. . .

And suddenly "it" is going by too fast.