It’s only a matter of days, I think, until Murrow is mortified at the thought of publicly being in the presence of his totally uncool parents. For now, he’s exerting his independence by recklessly racing throught the streets, desecrating his body with tattoos, and refusing to be force-fed our lies, er, food. OK, so he’s still eating our food… he just insists on feeding it to himself sitting in a regular chair. How rebellious he is.
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Murrow’s understanding more and more of what we say these days. We can tell him to close the refrigerator door, and he closes it. We can tell him to go get his water cup, and he brings it to us. We can tell him to give us kisses, and he leans in for one. When he’s getting into his jammies at night, he’ll remove his socks at our bidding, and toss them into the hamper. And when we ask him to show us his tongue, he gladly complies.
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Through all the changes that Murrow has gone through, one thing hasn’t changed a wink. He’s still the most active and sociable kid we know…which gives more credence to the idea that someone switched our child at the hospital. We’re pretty sure that his teachers will need to install straps and a gag in order to get him to sit quietly in class…but that is their problem, not ours.
Murrow’s been judiciously doling out hugs and kisses lately. Sometimes they’re open-mouthed and slobber-tastic. Sometimes they’re no-nonsense, tight-lipped affairs. But they’re always sweet. Today, as we were catching up with the nanny after work, Murrow walked himself over to 8-month-old Maiya, gave her a big bear hug, and planted a juicy one on, well, all over her face. Apparently, I’m not the only girl in Murrow’s love life.