R-r-r-rico.... Grande...
Anybody else remember that terrible 90's song, "Rico Suave," or is that a little bit of cheesiness unique to my brain? Seriously, seriously cheesy song - so bad that if you're lactose intolerant you can't listen to it... and yet I would still blast it if it came on the radio today! Anyway...

I have a few moments, since Jacob is asleep but expected awake soon, and Emily is watching "Pinocchio." Which is, conservatively, 7 hours long. I don't remember it being that long when I was a child, but there ya go. I guess it's the inverse of the way summer vacations used to seem endless and now they're only about 20 minutes long. So I thought I'd stop in and babble for a bit.

The title is in reference to the fact that Jacob has apparently tapped into an unexpected Latino vein of his heritage, as his new favorite trick is to roll his tongue constantly. It's not gargling, either - it's a really good rendition of a Spanish "R" sound. I can't make it, myself, and neither can Emily, but Willem and Jacob can. Maybe it's one of those rare Y-chromosome traits. In any case, it's pretty cute.

It's been a blast watching Jacob get more interactive and less lumplike. He will happily play by himself on the floor for upwards of half an hour, which is a godsend given how clean I need to keep the house now that it's on the market. And we've stumbled upon a few little tricks that make him happy. For instance, he LOVES being walked toward the stairs. Stumped me for several days - did he just like the impending change in altitude? liked the hanging-over-a-precipice feeling? is a fiend for laundry? And then I realized that we have several 8x10's of Emily along the stairs, with the bottom one being the most recent - and as we walk towards that, Jacob gets very excited, with the flailing and the squealing and the wiggling and the kicking. He just adores his big sister, serious worship happening already. It'll be so weird when they start irritating each other, since they get along so sweetly right now.

Another Jacob-soothing method is - not kidding - trimming his fingernails. I don't know if I have a very short metrosexual on my hands, or if the possibility that the end of his finger could get pinched is sort of a daring thrill for him, but he sits right back and holds his fat little hands out for me as soon as I get the clippers out.
He's gotten very into socks just lately, as well. Specifically, pulling them off his pudgy feet. He'll tug and tug and tug - we have a bunch of white-and-gray crew socks which fit him pretty snugly, so it's a challenge to wrench them off - and then they'll fly off with a *pop*. And he'll giggle like a fiend. This is high-concept humor we're talking about here.

Still no crawling or trying to crawl or, as far as I can tell, any awareness that it would be remotely possible for him to move his own body anywhere. He's not lazy, he loves to stand and bounce and bounce and bounce and bounce. But no recognition that he is the one in charge of those legs down there past the diaper. Which is fine by me, we're moving in another 3-4 months, I don't mind not babyproofing this house!

Okay, onto the next pile of laundry. It's a lot of work keeping a house show-ready, I never realized that we lived like frat boys before. Can't wait to sell the place so I can go back to relative slovenliness.