Alex

Alex has made so much progress since the last time I saw him it’s quite remarkable.  His mother recounts a story about him grizzling at her to try and get something out of her, since his ability to intuit when she needs 20 solid minutes to get supper happening is excellent.  Finally she gave in and he teasingly signed thank you about fifty times; she’s willing take the teasing for him not having to be prompted first.  Stuffing manners into kids is a tedious but ultimately rewarding task.

Alex played ON me.  I am obviously not a threat to him any more, and he ran up and started using me as a roadway for a truck (gently, and with a little furrow in his brow.) He also flung himself on me once while I was indulging in floor play, flinging his amply pneumatic stomach onto my shins as I was lying down. He played nicely with the butterfly game on my phone.

And he called me GiGi, which is my name as grandma.  More than once.

And then, proving that he is the biggest little clown in New Westminster, he brought me my shoes and umbrella, and I said to Katie, “He’s done with me! that’s my cue to leave,” so I did (it was nap time anyway.)