Hi all,
This is Evan, and I'm hijacking the blog for a few minutes to announce some great news. Our daughter, Iris, whom you come to this blog to learn about, is now saying "Dadadada" with verve and gusto. We're no Dadaists in this family, and therefore the process of elimination leaves us with only a single plausible conclusion: she's referring to me. I'm sure some dad hundreds of thousands of years ago decided to name himself this first alveolar utterance his child made, before the too-busy mother was able to do the same. But now we get to lean on tradition, and I can gain some ground in the quest to become the favored parent.
Iris is so excited to celebrate her Daddy, that she's been making this utterance all day, even in my absence. And we have multiple instances of video proof.
That last video came after a dinner during which she gritted her tooth and pounded her plastic giraffe into her booster seat tray like a young Dave Grohl. Grandad Nels egged her on with complicated syncopations, and Iris usually waited for her turn in the exchange, but always she returned to her frantic beat. When I sat her in front of a piano earlier today, she did the same thing.
We are vacationing in Los Alamos now, and it snowed last night. None of us came prepared with snow gear, so we won't be spending a lot of time outside the next few days...except that I'm going on a hike with Sarah's brother tomorrow afternoon. He's quite the adventurer, so I'm expecting it will be great.
Other than that, my goals for the trip are to read a few quarters of Lapham's Quarterly, play with Iris until she gets tired of me, catch up on lost sleep, and do no job-work.
Happy holidays, everyone.
This is Evan, and I'm hijacking the blog for a few minutes to announce some great news. Our daughter, Iris, whom you come to this blog to learn about, is now saying "Dadadada" with verve and gusto. We're no Dadaists in this family, and therefore the process of elimination leaves us with only a single plausible conclusion: she's referring to me. I'm sure some dad hundreds of thousands of years ago decided to name himself this first alveolar utterance his child made, before the too-busy mother was able to do the same. But now we get to lean on tradition, and I can gain some ground in the quest to become the favored parent.
Iris is so excited to celebrate her Daddy, that she's been making this utterance all day, even in my absence. And we have multiple instances of video proof.
That last video came after a dinner during which she gritted her tooth and pounded her plastic giraffe into her booster seat tray like a young Dave Grohl. Grandad Nels egged her on with complicated syncopations, and Iris usually waited for her turn in the exchange, but always she returned to her frantic beat. When I sat her in front of a piano earlier today, she did the same thing.
We are vacationing in Los Alamos now, and it snowed last night. None of us came prepared with snow gear, so we won't be spending a lot of time outside the next few days...except that I'm going on a hike with Sarah's brother tomorrow afternoon. He's quite the adventurer, so I'm expecting it will be great.
Other than that, my goals for the trip are to read a few quarters of Lapham's Quarterly, play with Iris until she gets tired of me, catch up on lost sleep, and do no job-work.
Happy holidays, everyone.
No comments:
Post a Comment