One of the highlights of the trip to Iowa for AJ was the fact that his Grammy J has two ceiling fans. He has been obsessed with ceiling fans since he first noticed one when he was just a couple of weeks old, and he now saves his best coos, smiles and squeals for the ceiling fans in his life. When Joe calls from work to check in on us and hears AJ making particularly joyful noises in the background, Joe now knows not to ask anymore whether the baby is trying to talk to him. Joe: "He's looking at that damn ceiling fan again, isn't he?" Me: "Yep." If AJ had to rank the objects of his affections in order of importance, his list would look like this: (1) The ceiling fan in our bedroom (a sleek, contemporary number pictured above); (2) The ceiling fan in grandma's bedroom (three adjustable speeds!); (3) The ceiling fan in grandma's kitchen; (4) His grandparents; (5) His Mom and Dad; (6) Everyone else.
I wanted to post a picture of him smiling at the ceiling fan, but since he has become obsessed with shoving his fists in his mouth at all times, all I could get was a picture of him smiling into his fists. Picture a demure Victorian lady smiling into her hand, except that AJ then shoves his fist into his mouth and drools all over it.
Joe and I have thought about taking AJ into Home Depot to look at the ceiling fan department, but I think he would have a stroke from all the excitement.
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