Santa only brought gifts for David Camps – a medieval set of lego, a star wars set of lego, and a huge machine which is to be built with little lego pieces. I just kept thinking, the rest of our holidays are not going to work unless we can get a dedicated lego table in this house. Duncan arrived bringing all of his DVD that he has grown out of, and as an add-on, there is a huge back of recycled stuffy toys. We are going to be having Xmas every two days for the holidays, since David’s mother likes this spread out over the holidays … to keep the excitement level up.
Michael Johnson likes to decorate and undecorated the up-side down tree. He enjoys climbing in and out of cupboards, the little low ledges of which are just right to be used as stools. His diapers give him a wide stance and he would teeter if he didn’t have such fantastic balance.
Michael is having speech and language therapy at every turn – his aunt, his grandmother, his parents and now Uncle Steve. For a starter, I don’t allow anyone to throw the ball to the dog in the house. Already there have been too many incidents of proportions equaling broken coffee pots – which is not to blame the dog, for in that instance, Steve’s throw was just off. At any rate, I banish both the thrower and the dog to the outside when people forget. But I watched Kiwi today teach Michael how to do repetitive ball throwing. The therapy session began with Richard laying on the floor, stretching out his arms and legs in a tall spike, 7 and ½ feet long. Michael was crawling all over his dad, which made me remark to Steve how pleasant it is to have older kids and no longer have someone in a diaper sitting on your head. Steve and I watched the first tentative throw of a ball – not to the dog. Michael was just giving a throw of a ball on the ground, but Kiwi brought it right back and dropped it at the baby’s feet. Michael picked up the ball again and gave it an awkward toss and Kiwi returned the favour by dropping it at the baby’s feet again. After about seven throws there was a light-bulb go on in Michael’s eyes. How fun it is to have a dog that will return the ball right to your feet, no matter where you toss it or how many times you throw it. Really cute for a Christmas day treat for Steve and me, to sit quietly and watch the game of catch taught by a dog to a baby.