Sunday, February 2, 2003

Morgan wasn't feeling well this morning and had thrown up a couple times before 10am. Around 11 am I was getting Timothy something to eat and Morgan was whining in the kitchen.

"What's wrong Morgan? are you hungry?" I asked.

"No."

Did he just answer a question? "Are you thirsty?" I asked.

"No."

"Do you want a hug?"

"No."

"Do you want a kiss?"

"No."

"Well, what do you want?"

"Cookie" he said, pointing to package of cookies on the counter, which are different from his usual preference of cookies kept in the cookie jar on a different part of the counter. I hesitated a moment more, but figured if he wanted to throw up cookies too, that was fine with me.

Three minutes later I was sitting on the couch and a chocolate faced Morgan finds me. "Cookie?" he says.

"Do you want more cookie?"

"Yah" he says. Well, there may be hope for this kid after all. This episode repeated itself three minutes later, but I had reached even my own notably lax parenting tolerance for cookies before noon, so had to respond, "all done cookie," which seemed to go over relatively well and there was no crying. Josh offered juice instead, which Morgan seemed happy enough to trade for.

I haven't been feeling so great myself today, so laid on the couch with Morgan while he napped. I watched some old home movies, from just before when Timothy started walking to when he was about Morgan's age now. I had forgotten how much he talked. Even at about 2 he was using quite a few words, and by 2 1/2 was taking Burger King orders and acting out Blues Clues episodes. There was some good footage of him singing head, shoulders, knees, and butt, and I could clearly make out each body part even through the extensive giggling. I was glad that we didn't completely ignore Morgan in the videos, though most of the footage is of him staring at Timothy. I thought Timothy would enjoy the video much more than he did, but after being called in from the other room a couple times, he politely requested that I stop calling him in to see this stuff. Maybe in a couple more years.