I’m the first to admit that I am an unabashedly proud father. Once I start talking about my kids it can be very difficult to stop. While I do often vent about their difficulties in growing up, I especially look forward to that most joyous of parental pastimes: bragging about what they do well. Buckle up, ladies and gentlemen, for just such an occasion has presented itself.
Last week, Avey approached her mother with a mathematical dilemma. She wondered about this strange number zero and what was to be done therewith. In brief, Kira told Avey about negative numbers. As are most children when introduced to the concept, Avey was rather resistant to it. After all, how could one have less than zero of something? It’s a silly idea (maybe I should write a letter to my student loan lender explaining how silly it is.). After a little coaching and some argument, the numbers began to speak to Avey. She tried out several different problems, and appears to have grasped the principle. Even today while she was eating, she announced to me out of the blue, “Dad, four minus six is negative two.” I checked it out on my calculator, and could not argue with her conclusion.
It would be difficult to overstate how impressed we are with her. I honestly do not believe that I understood negative numbers until I was around age 9 or 10. I think in the future I will collaborate with her on my statistics homework.
In other news, Carver has officially budded his first tooth! The little thing finally poked through his gums after a couple of nights waking up to party at 2am. Needless to say, we are very relieved that he is now sleeping longer, and excited that he is moving to a new stage!
He began baby food a few weeks ago, and was on board from the moment the spoon hit his tongue. Although he had some trouble navigating the mechanics of eating with a spoon, he was clearly intrigued by new tastes. You would think we hadn’t fed him since birth – he gulps down the spoonfuls, then in between spoonfuls he lifts his bib to his mouth to slurp up any stray drops. After we’ve scraped the bowl clean and get up to warm his next course, he wails despondently as if every second his mouth is separated from sweet potatoes, life is draining from his body. I estimate he will plump up quite a bit over the next few months.
More news is in the making…