No Fear

This little boy. He's full of life this one. Smiled for the first time at two months old, screams as loud as a siren, warms every heart he meets. I call him my social one. This is usually stated as Genny shrinks behind my legs or whatever she's standing next to. Then the stranger and I glance at her, and as just as the stranger is thinking it, I say, "She's my shy one."

That brings us to vacuuming. Since Genny could sit she's been afraid of the vacuum. When she was able to walk I had her sit on the couch while I vacuumed, since, apparently the couch is not only the safe-zone from lava [like you and I used to pretend] but also the safe-zone from the vacuum. After Glenn was born, I treated him as I did Genny; I held him as I vacuumed (with Genny safely on the couch), but this boy is a squirmer. He stretches and arches his back, trying to find enough footing to launch himself into the world that he just knows is waiting to be explored. One day I set him down on the opposite side of the room, afraid he'd find his footing and jump out of my arms. He speedily scampered across the floor to the vacuum, and sat there for a minute, as if in awe, trying to decide what to touch first. I started vacuuming and he chased the vacuum, trying to catch it so he could play with it.

Today I thought I'd post a few pictures of how vacuuming goes in my house. Genny on the couch and Glenn on the floor.


Genny wanted her ice cream cones and horse with her on the couch.

Climbing and licking. That's my boy!