It was a beautiful high-winter day here today: crisp, cold, brilliantly sunny. I think the Tassavas had a good time of it. The gentlemen from NorthfieldWiFi came over to install out new "wi-max" system, whereby we'll get far faster internet service for the same price as we've been paying for Qwest DSL. Many YouTubed Sesame Street videos will be watched, I predict.
Unaware of this great electronic boon to her life (but very shy of the two installers), Julia pretended to be Roger Rhino, a Richard Scarry book character, almost all day. This entailed little more than informing us that she was still Roger, though she also very gently would butt me in the leg with her "vewwy yarge horn!"
Gigi's very early bedtimes during the week mean that I don't get to spend much unstructured time with her. But we spent many hours together today, and I was struck by her numerous new skills. First and foremost, she can effortlessly sit up for long periods of time now. A close second, she can roll over from back to front quite readily - especially when the being supine can help her streeeeetch out to grab some enticing toy, like the sippy-cup lids she loves almost as much as Mama. Though she's only intermittently verbal, she can really belt out the sounds when she chooses, with her high-decibel "dadadada" sound being perhaps a way to make sure her half-deaf dad can hear her. I can, honey. Don't worry. Most impressively of all, Geneiveive taught herself how to scoop up items that float by her in the tub. Just last weekend, she was immensely frustrated when a simple stabbing motion - so effective on dry land - didn't help her get a slick, bobbing rubber ducky. This evening, she expertly dipped a hand under the water, moved it underneath the object, and then raked upwards: a surefire way to get the ducky, the washcloth, or a few random stacking rings and linking beads. The technique was also effective for grabbing her sister's butt, which Julia thought was pretty funny. ""Gigi gwabbed my bottom! Hee hee hee. Why did she, Daddy?"
The adults in the house, both of whom have forsworn ass-grabbing, partook of Carleton College's recreational opportunities. Shannon ran on the indoor track in the rec center, while at midafternoon I "raced" in the Crazy Carleton Classic Relay, a ski race in the Arb. Every other racer was a Carleton student, so I was a bit out of place, but it was fun anyhow. I skied last for my team (two young women went first and second for us), and managed to catch the team in front of us, putting us in fourth on the day - both just out of the medals, and not last. Actually I caught that other team twice: once legitimately, after the course's longest hill, and once illegitimately, after their skier took a wrong turn, cut the course, and wound up in front of me again. No matter- it was a great time anyhow. The organizer - who, in keeping with the race's conceit skied in a lab coat, safety glasses, and purple surgical gloves - put the results online.