There's No Friend Like an Old Friend

The jazz class for the girls is going well, considering neither Margaret nor Patricia ever had a jazz class in their life. Their years in tap are paying off because unlike many of the other girls in their class, they have rhythm and can count. When Miss Susan says jump to the left, they know instinctively that means turning toward your left side. Several of the poor souls in the class stare vacantly straight ahead and jump, neither to the left nor the right, leaving Miss Susan frustrated and wondering if she should be investigating a different line of work. But for my money, I'm thrilled the girls are happy in class because it's great exercise for them and because it's fun, they're not aware that it's great exercise.

Speaking of exercise, Baby Brigid has been getting hers, pulling herself up, walking along the sides of the crib, pulling herself up in the playpen and on just about anything else she can grab a hold of. She bounces and throws herself all over the place, usually letting out squeals of delight at the same time. I'm just worried she's going to give herself whiplash one of these days.

We marked another milestone yesterday with the introduction of cereal. We gave Baby B some rice cereal at dinner last night and although she was a little unsure at first, she soon began instinctively opening her mouth for the spoon to accept the gruel. She didn't seem overly excited or surprised. It almost seemed alike a totally normal, everyday thing to her. She was surprised at the introduction of white grape juice in a sippy cup, though, and I don't know if that was as successful. So much for the big production of introducing solids. She's beyond that. And as far as Brigid was concerned, I think she was just as happy to get back to her dear old friend, the boob.