This afternoon I witnessed something frightening. It was a blur. A streak. A speeding particle that was proceeding so quickly from the left to right of my field of vision (which is to say the full range of my field of vision), that I thought for a moment that some sort of animal had gotten into Calvin’s room at creche.

You guessed it of course. Yes, the blur was one little boy that I managed to identify as my own only once he had come to a temporary halt by flinging himself on top of a small table. Yikes. If he can move that fast… we’re in trouble!

At 20 months and one week old, the little guy continues to surprise with feats of agility and optimism. We consistently have to explain that while we understand he wants to emulate the five- and six-years-olds on the monkey bars, he’s probably not quite there yet. Still he tries.

We’ve all come a long way. Not too many months ago, I was still obsessively reading every helpful missive from (which gets an A+ for useful information.) Now they often languish in my inbox until a spare moment when I can read them. And with Master Quicksilver on our hands, there aren’t too many of those spare, spare moments!



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