Not an enigma

In mid-June, Karl moved into the preschool classroom next door--that's a local thing, this preschool starting at 2.5 thing. His tuition rate plummeted. The playground got much bigger. Karl started talking a lot more: clearly, greater complexity, and oh, the quantity. We really noticed it when Sanna was gone or sleeping, and boy, the kid can talk now. On July 4th: "Skeetos eat me! Dey bite my back and my chin and my ears!"

His increase in language allows him better communication, which means that he's easier to negotiate with, easier to reason with, and easier just to understand what he wants. Communication is more two-way than one-way now, and that's incredibly helpful, especially for 2.5.

He's still Karl; Karl who wears his heart on his sleeve. An acquaintance watched Karl on the beach last weekend for a few minutes and said, "Karl is not an enigma. You know exactly what he's thinking." So true. He shows his frustration as readily as he shows his joy. Our dear friend M spent the weekend with us last month, and soon turned to us and said, "He really is just that delighted all the time." Yes, 90% of the time, he is just that delighted.

We spent this afternoon at a nearby water park, and although Karl was outraged by and fearful of the wave pool last month, I convinced him ("It goes up and down like a big wet swing!") to try it today. He had a blast, didn't find it scary at all, and ended up falling asleep in Brooke's lap atop an inner tube. He was my brave boy, going down the water slide four times even though I inadvertently submerged him when we went last month, then falling asleep in the car on the way home.

When he woke at 9pm looking for dinner, he was inconsolable, so I fed him pasta and we watched Sesame Street clips on youtube. Then I brushed his teeth, put him in an old butterfly dress of Sanna's, and kissed my sweet boy goodnight.