Over the course of the long weekend, we went to the park and for several walks enjoying the beautiful weather. Harper has started collecting rocks. She sometimes brings them home, but mostly, she feels the need for geological companionship on our walks. She will stop anywhere there is a large pile of rocks or stones and carefully sift through the choices before selecting a suitable partner who will accompany her along her stumbling journey through the neighborhood.
When given a wide variety of choices, she will almost always pick the smoothest, roundest rock she can find. This warms my heart as I have several very smooth rocks sitting on the dashboard in my car.
Shut up! It's a tactile thing!
When a smooth rock is not available, however, she will happily choose something jagged and dangerous to carry around in her wildly swinging arms. If, during the course of the walk, she drops the rock or puts it down to examine something else, she is very likely to walk back half a block to get it again.
I do my best to make sure the rocks are not covered in bird poop because, inevitably, those rocks will go in her mouth. If they are too big for her, she will find a corner that isn't and painstakingly examine the texture with her tongue.
In addition to rocks, she puts MANY things into her mouth. So far, she has yet to eat things that are poisonous or even anything that makes me do more than cringe. (No clods of dirt, dead birds, egg shells, etc.) Mostly it's toys, remote controls, chapstick, coins, clothing, etc.
Also, entire apples. (A-peez!)
When it comes time for meals, however, Harper takes (distressingly) after her mother.
Watching Sara eat is like watching Meg Ryan order a sandwich. (As Sally, of course. I have no idea how Meg Ryan orders a sandwich in real life. I assume it's something like "I'd like a tuna sandwich, please. Thank you.")
Sara, my lovely, beautiful and amazing wife, eats her meals in a way that is vaguely reminiscent of mental patients. First, she separates all of the different food products into piles, making sure that none of them touch. Next, she picks one pile to start with, knowing that it must be dealt with before the next pile has its turn.
She then proceeds to cut her food into miniscule pieces, paring away imaginary fat and "icky parts" that would not be detectable with an electron microscope. Each piece is thoroughly examined for bad bits, including anything slightly overcooked, undercooked, discolored, wet, dry, greasy, salty, mushy, chewy, tough, tasty, etc. The examined pieces are then sorted again, but not into piles of edible and otherwise. It looks this way, but it is not actually the case. I know this because after the sorting of all food, she will eat certain pieces from each pile with no apparent regard for why it was put there in the first place.
This is a bit of hyperbole, but there is more truth than I am comfortable with.
Jamie Lee Curtis says this yogurt will make them regular...
Perhaps we should simply mix rock into her dinner and she'll eat it without hesitation or examination...
While all of this is going on, Brynn continues to sleep.
Here are some pictures.
