Zachary started daycare. Again. Today was his second day. We like it, it seems a little more professional (which I wasn't sure originally as a good thing, but now I'm convinced). He seems to be enjoying it. And sleeping soundly. He's got a cold (allergic to california? new germs i guess) and a cough but it doesn't seem to be too much of a big deal. I'm sick too, and a little sad that with daycare comes not much daytime Z. He's a little tired for the walking by the time I get home for bedtime. He is, however, still hysterical. Today he carried a spoon all the way from dinner to his bath to his diaperchange to nursing to bed. Clutched in his hot little hands. He fell asleep and all his limbs were limp. I went to put him in the crib and tried to take the spoon. Tried being the operative word, since he clenched his fist back around the spoon while no other muscle moved.
Mark would like to add: 13 months, 13 flights.
Love to everyone.
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