Here are some things that Shef can do now that he’s a big, grown-up seventeen-month-old:

He yells, “Ready! Set! Go!” and takes off running down the sidewalk. “Running” is a very earnest waddle, and he keeps it up until he falls down or loses his breath.

Dan has been quizzing Shef on the map in the study. Now we can ask, “Where’s Devin?” and he’ll answer, “Pah-wu,” and point to South America.

“Do it self,” has become a frequent utterance. He aches for self-sufficiency.

The dolphin obsession rages on, and he asks to watch the Minnesota Zoo’s web cam on my laptop several times a day. Ask him what dolphins do, and he’ll say, “Jumping! Swimming!”

He’s really into playing t-ball with Dan. “Daddy do it,” he says. Dan hits the ball and tells Shef to “field the grounder,” so Shef watches the ball land, yells “Get it!” and brings it back to the tee.

He loves Teletubbies. “Watch the Tubbies,” he says, and asks us to sing the theme song. I’ve made up raunchy alternative words to the song, but I don’t sing these to Shef.

His new favorite song is the Minnesota Rouser. “Mih-so-da!” he demands. We oblige at least ten times a day. I haven't yet made up inappropriate counter-lyrics, but eventually I will. It's inevitable.