Turk

I didn’t know it was possible, but I’m falling even more in love with my baby boy. Turk has been such an amazing sport (thus far). And he’s become incredibly popular since leaving Utah. He attracts attention everywhere he goes. People stop to talk to him, and he loves it—especially if they are women (doesn’t bode well for the future). He can be crying, and if a strange woman smiles at him he will instantly smile back, giggle, and jabber away. Dozens of people have also commented on the poor child’s hair. I patiently explain that we did NOT cut it into a Mohawk—it just grows that way. Even at the Smithsonian, about a dozen people gathered around us to look at and talk to Turk—I felt like we were part of the exhibit. And Turk takes it all in stride. He did a great job flying over 10 hours on the airplane to Turkey and waiting for over an hour to buy our visas and go through passport control. Even the officer at passport control got a good chuckle that the super white baby with the American passport was named Turk. He’s been showered with attention and love since arriving in Istanbul. Everyone is fascinated by the white (their word, not mine) baby. I know it can be overwhelming for him—he seems to be nursing more than usual—but he smiles at everyone and doesn’t discriminate between any of his aunts and uncles. I just hope he still remembers Mommy and Baba!