Intermission

I interrupt my "me me me" to bring you some "Dash Dash Dash."

A switch or something has been flipped in Dash's leetle melon recently and there's been this eruption of cognition that is astounding us with some regularity.

He used to respond to hugs by just kinda holding still and waiting to be let go. Starting two nights ago, you say "hug" and he opens his little arms as wide as they go and folds you into an embrace. Listen: until you have been made to fit into the arms of a one-year-old you haven't lived.

We have a book of safari animals and their corresponding sounds (you push the colored button that matches the page and hear the sound that animal makes). He learned pretty quickly the names and sounds of about four of the animals, and that was certainly enough for me to get on the phone to Mensa. But last night, when we got to the page with the chimp that he always called "monkey," and that I always called "good enough," he said "chimp." Chimp! How? Then we turned the page, he said "el-e-tant," so I passed out.

He can say what he wants, then he can go and get it. He can pull his socks off (which might seem less than amazing but we've been working on this for many months). He can eat spaghetti with a fork (it's not pretty, but it happens).

Things seemed to slow down a bit over the summer. Words were learned and inches were acquired, but it all happened at a pace that was more of a mosey than a sprint. He's sprinting now. I hope I can keep up.