My mom taught him to sing (just one note, actually – “aaahhh” he “sings” in a monotone, whenever he hears a song. Hmmm… looks like he’s tone deaf, too… something he definitely did not inherit from me!), to show his tongue, to brush his hair, to point to the light. Our helpers taught him to wave, to flutter his lashes, to recognize some fruits. Last night, hubby even taught him to dance a bit.
I, who had hoped for him to become a Jeoardy champ someday, taught him to do this.
When I go, “where isssss……
….Tristan?!?!”
He would do this downward dog yoga position.
A useless trick, but I taught him that!
Still the active little dumpling despite the cough and colds. Now that’s the fighting spirit, baby dude!
Someday, we’ll do Bikram Yoga together!
Look, ma, the downward doggie with just one hand!
Forty Eleven Thousand Things 