A lot happened this weekend in addition to Easter. For one thing, Harvey started crawling. On Saturday I put him down on the floor of Cara's kitchen and took two steps away to pick up a dish towel. Harvey put his knees half way under him and scooted right on after me. It was only three little scoots, but I screamed and cooed and smothered him with praise just like he'd just won the nobel prize. The next morning we put him down on the floor and a moment later he was under the table. "Do you see?" Dan said, "He's crawling over her."
"I know," I replied unmoved. "He totally does that now."
Also some time last week his hair turned curly. I don't know if it was the flood-induced humidity or the fact that we celebrated a jewish seder on Tuesday, but his mother's genes have suddenly expressed themselves. Seriously, he's crawling around like a little boy baby Shirley Temple.
Next it'll be tap dancing.
If Harvey had emerged from the womb curly headed I would have morned for him. I'm not a big fan of my curly hair, it's hard to keep it from looking messy all the time. So much the worse for a little boy dash teenager dash young man. But now that's it's been a while and my son looks the spitting image of my husband in all features facial, I'm glad to have this little bit of momma-ness reflected back at me.
Or away from me, depending on which direction he's crawling.