It was a dark and stormy night...

Zander had a really good time on our hike around the Arboretum this weekend. See:

No, he wasn't crying or anything. But he had this look on his face for the last leg of the hike - the part he was awake for. Awestruck with beauty I guess. Me, I was laughing so hard I could barely walk upright.

In other Zander-news, the bouncer chair is almost ineffectual - no, I daresay it's downright counterproductive. He screams the moment his hiney hits the seat. But on the upside, our big boy would rather spend his time on his belly, checking out the world from that perspective. He so badly wants to move that he's almost forgotten to even bother with rolling over and just worms around. Picture this: his belly is the pivot and the arms and legs float just above the ground, wheeling about, looking for purchase, or maybe something brightly colored to stick in his mouth. Kind of a like a weeble ("weebles wobble but they don't fall down"). Luckily he can only move about six inches in ten minutes. And not in a straight line.

Lastly, Zander would like to thank his Grandma Carol for the Leapfrog noisy arch thing. I set that up for him last week when it became clear he was too sophisticated for his bouncer or playmat. He enjoys listening to the music while he watches TV (I can't stop him except to turn it off altogether!). Of course the adult brains are melting to the tune of "Somewhere out in the world today / little children go out to play / when they see each other they say hello / Bonjour, Hola, Konichiwa / In the land where they live / In the words that they know..." Our sympathizers - other parents of small children - please bow your head in a moment of silence for the death of our sanity. Yes, I understand if you can only find a moment of silence by locking yourself in the bathroom. It still counts.