Ramble On

Sometimes it really is more about the journey than the destination. The small people and I did a little hike this morning up to a great waterfall. If big legs had been doing all the walking it would have taken under an hour up and back. With small legs and lots to look at, though, it was more like a two hour trip. Since today was our first of of summer (no more school, no more gymnastics until the fall), and we didn't really have much else on our agenda this morning, we took our sweet time walking up the creek. I hustle these guys around plenty so it was really nice to be able to mosey up without much concern as to how quickly we were moving and although the waterfall was really pretty, the journey was, by far, the best part of the trip. 

looking for salmon (there aren't any in there right now although this is a spawning river)

gathering leaves...

to toss in and watch float under the bridge and out the other side.

rock collecting (guess who ended up carrying those... and then leaving them behind for the next group to discover).

scrambling up tree trunks... some older boys had passed by us on the trail and climbed up here. Molly, never one to be daunted by what older kids are doing, decided that she was going to get up there too. It didn't quite work but it wasn't from lack of effort. 

instead, she settled for scrambling up rocks. 

and ended with a picnic lunch creek side. 

Joy To The World

I'm pretty sure everyone's day should be filled with...

sharing snacks in a fort (and if you're Molly, you're "sharing" everyone else's snacks so much that they don't get to eat).

And using the same square foot of play space.

Mr. Big Stuff

Our little guy will be eight months old on Friday... seriously, where has the time gone? Eight months? I keep waiting for someone to sneak up on me and tell me that it 's a mistake and he's really only 6 months or something (bigggggg difference, right?). He's such an interesting little dude and I find myself alternately cracking up at his antics and giving him puppy dog eyes because, well, he's really dang cute. All kids have their unique traits that strangers comment to you about and Jack's are definitely his big, big eyes and mile-wide smile. Like all good baby boys, his target audiences are grandmas in grocery stores who prefer his serenity to the blond tornado (they're fools to believe that he's serene but whatever) or moms with teenage sons. I get LOTS of those... "I remember when little Mikey was this age... sigh".

Jack lives life on his own terms and pretty much refuses to do anything that might be considered standard. I'm pretty sure his will of steel will outmatch his sister's (AHHHHHHHHHH!) and he is bound and determined to prove that you can always get what you want. There are times if I ever wonder if we'll get to some milestone (okay, really just the sleeping through the night thing), and then all of a sudden, wham, we're there. Jack treats it like "yeah, I could do that months ago but I just wasn't in the mood." He can be such a Valley girl; if he had hair, he would flip it all the time at me.

He marches to the beat of his own drummer -- you know how most babies get their two bottom front teeth and then their two top front ones? Not this guy. He did get his bottom two first but then decided he would rather get his top lateral incisors before his middle ones. He has a bit of a snaggle-tooth look but that doesn't stop his Don Juan impressions. Apparently, the ladies go for gap-toothed grins. He let us know a few weeks ago that he was going to start crawling by getting up on his hands and knees. Cool, right? Yeah, if he would go FORWARD. Little buddy just likes to scoot himself around backwards. It's not like he has some preternatural ability to sense large objects that are in his way; unlike Molly, he does not have eyes on his bum.

All his quirks are endearing, though, at least to old mom here. He's a big guy now and getting more animated by the day. He gets a kick out of watching the action take place around him but likes to have a seat front and center (or to stand and bounce in someone's lap). His laugh is outstanding and he gets in super giggly fits, which make us all crack up. We still enjoy our dates in the afternoons and every Wednesday, which is wonderful. He's a total (busy) love but enjoys nothing more than a good snuggle, for which I'm a total sucker.

Eight months... wow. I'm looking forward to the next eight months and all the fun and mischief we'll get into. But, truthfully, I'm also a little sad. I love the baby stage and it's a little sad to see a few months down the road when he'll be toddling and talking. All the stages are wonderful and exciting but this baby stage just goes so darn fast so I'm trying hard to stay in the moment and stick with whatever he's doing that day.

We take a lot of booster seat pictures but, honestly, Jack's usually pretty happy in there.

Lots of raspberry blowing these days. LOTS.

Mastering the ultimate rite of passage... "how big is Jack?"

Looking up at the big kids in admiration and awe

Dad, Dad, Dad-i-o

Even when kids are going through a mommy-phase, there's nothing quite like having dear old dad come home every night and be around to spice things up all weekend. Jack and Molly have it really, really good in the dad department and I think they won't even have to look back in twenty years to realize that -- they know it right now. Dads often get the short end of the stick, I think, on their special day; people fawn over moms (and I'm not lodging a complaint on that) on mother's day but I'm not sure the companion holiday has quite the same oomph (maybe dads feel they don't need just one day to get recognized -- they must think their spouse tells them how wonderful they are every day. That's it.). I know that John isn't so much the fawning-over type but he does deserve all the recognition in the world for what a great partner and parent he is. When Jack wasn't winning sleeping awards, John would do many of the late night/early morning sssshhhhings so that I could get some snoozing in. When Molly wants to bounce on the exercise ball/swing on the baby swing/climb all over someone, if he's home, he's totally game for that (I even hid the exercise ball so that I wouldn't have to do any more bouncing but John actually went and got it out of storage to keep bouncing. That's some dad-ication). He shows the kids funny party tricks (don't blame me if you get a lot of thumbs up for a job well done), teaches Molly how to add and spell, spends hours looking at her word book, is a human jungle gym (see the theme of jumping/climbing/bouncing here?), will build and build and build with blocks and trains, cleans Jack up and jammies him up for the night -- all these little things that I completely and utterly appreciate. More importantly, though, the small people do as well. He reminds me not to be the fun police all the time and can always reach back and retrieve a pacifier in the car. So, whether or not father's day gets the same appreciation as mother's day from the folks at Hallmark, it gets it from me.

What would either of us be without our own dads? Besides, the obvious (not here), we get a whole lot of love, advice, and perspective. Our kids, again, totally luck out too and carry very special notions of their grandfathers around with them. Molly (Jack hasn't let on what he likes to think about his grandfathers quite yet) reports that Grampy takes her to the playground (and she gets a bloody lip, even though that only happened ONCE), likes to mow the lawn, and will show her the moon and stars some day. She tells me that Grandpa plays golf, has a convertible, and likes french fries. She immediately asks for these guys whenever one of us is on the phone with Grammy or Nana (sorry), and they both give each of the little maniacs such focused love and attention whenever we see them. And Jack, well, he's just excited for what mischief they let him get into down the road. 

So, once again, a huge merci to all the dads out there. You guys deserve all the thanks in the world. 

Put your head on my... forearm. Still, there's nothing like a dad pillow.

Hey dad, look at me! Jack got really excited to show John his blueberry face and belly (by the way, John does own other t-shirts. This picture and the above one were taken on different days but in the same uniform).

Like father like daughter... I don't know who had more fun in the Contraption Center at the Science Museum this weekend. It was uncanny watching these two build their hearts out. 

I am fully prepared to be in trouble for taking this picture, but for those of you who remember or have heard stories about how John used to build stadiums out of popsicle sticks... well, here is John 2.0 with legos. That's the upper deck in progress...

Here are the pair of Jacks (little Jack was SO little!)

Not the best picture of my dad but he's carrying the wiggliest of worms on his shoulders and there's no standing still and posing for a nice snapshot these days. Nonetheless, having two of my favorite guys together is still priceless to me. 

This Is How We Do It

Both of my small people are in the midst of a mom phase. This does not bode well for any opportunity to leave the house by myself (which, when you have a Grammy here, you actually get to do). Molly's mom-centricity is way more intense than Jack's (his momamania bursts on the scene if I'm in the vicinity but not with him directly. If he can't see me, he's happy as a clam with anyone else) and has reduced her to tears when I've left  her (yes, even with John) lately. She never went through a stranger anxiety phase or was ever particularly clingy as a baby but suddenly, here it is. I don't really mind, although it means that days are filled with a lot of chatter as my little shadow narrates the world around us at a near constant pace (and if she's off playing by herself, her inner dialogue becomes externalized as well). Most of the time, I just need to be around -- she doesn't need me to hold her all the time or anything -- so that I can witness her doing everything by herself. Apparently, I'm a fantastic audience (although I've been hearing a lot of "Grammy, Grammy, GRAM-MY" over the past few days and I have been able to shower at a leisurely pace while she serves my mom her 85th cup of hot cocoa with chocolate in it. Also, just so that no one thinks John is completely left out of all the fun, I pretty much don't exist for the first hour after he gets home in the evening... unless I try and run an errand and don't bring her with me. Sometime around 9am every day she starts asking me if Dad can put her to bed tonight. Why, sure he can). You can almost see her little gears cranking away as she problem solves everything from getting her arms through her shirt sleeves to climbing even higher on something at the playground to figuring out what rhymes with Molly. As much as I can, I encourage the problem-solving (although it seems to involve a lot of disrobing and de-diapering), even if it makes us move at a slightly slower pace.

Jack also seeks out an audience wherever he goes these days. His favorite playmate is still Molly, and hearing them laughing together is the most agreeable sound in the world, but he'll settle for whomever is around as long as he or she applauds and cheers on his new tricks. He has come up with some amazingly funny faces and is getting his arms, hands, and wacky smiles into his party tricks routine. His brain gears may be little smaller than his sister's right now (although you could never tell that by the size of his gigantic head) but they are working just as hard. He's healthy now (knock on wood) and really, really happy.

Although the days of living under a microscope (what are we doing? what happened? where are we going? who is that? can I help? are you all done? is Jack sleeping? is Jack awake?) are full of intense energy, I'm glad that I have two small people to balance it all out -- for me and for each other. Although I might not find Molly rearranging every stool/small table/chair in the house so that she can jump off them the most awesome thing ever, Jack does, so I just let it go and wait to cue the laughter.

And We All Fall Down

John has been gone at a conference and I had the munchkins to myself for a day or so before relief arrived in the form of Grammy. My solution to solo parenting? Run them ragged. We went to the farmer's market, walked, beached, playgrounded, hiked, and... slept. Our glorious weekend weather has turned into a bit of June Gloom this week but we soaked up all our vitamin D while it lasted on Saturday and Sunday.

This is the way we leave the beach, leave the beach, leave the beach....

Sometimes I wonder how she has any blood left in her fingertips... she will hang on anything. 

The happiest little hiker

We boosted our friends off their couch earlyish on Sunday morning to join us for our waterfall hike -- I think they didn't mind too much. Is there a kid in the world who doesn't like a little sun, a little stream, and a lot of splashing?

Second In Command

So, what has the other half of the dynamic duo been up to? Aside from giving our pediatrician lots of business, he's been going through those rapid changes that only seven month olds can do (I had forgotten how much change happens between 6-9 months. Egad, he's like a new kid every day).

Until about a week ago, he was still happy roosting on his rump. This sitting with toys stage has been lovely and as long as someone (preferably me... and that's not my ego talking) is a checking in with him and within sight, he's content. Unfortunately (see below), that may soon come to an end...

In addition to becoming a traditional epicure (come visit and you too can have some beet, that's right I said BEET nuggets. Mmmmmh), he's finding lots of things that are tasty:

He is also sneaking his way into conversation and not letting the big gun do all the chatting. Unfortunately, he comes armed with the most ear-splitting scream. Happy, sad, needing attention... who knows but it makes me jump out of my skin every time he does it (it's the worst when I'm driving and trying to avoid senior citizens. EEK).

And, this past week has brought that amazingly squirmy wormy stage and real desire to crawl instead of scooting 360s. We're in the "diaper changes take approximately 19.5 hours to accomplish because someone cannot stay still or on his back or at one end or the other of the changing table" place...

On your mark, get set...

I think he's starting to realize how much power he holds in his little grasp. He too can bug small people now. And yes, he's wearing only his shoes. They were the only things not completely slimed after lunch. 

His plank position is better than mine ever was. Rest assured, that's my hand right there ready to pull him back from the edge. 

Cooked.

Born To Run

I think two year olds are like a good romantic comedy -- you laugh a little, cry a little, and there's a whole lot of drama... all in the space of ninety minutes. We go through many rounds of extremes each and every day, which is SUPER fun. I honestly, honestly do appreciate how hard Molly works at trying to figure her world out but I do NOT understand why wiping her nose is met with histrionic wails and dives into the corner. I also appreciate how helpful she would like to be but would like to ram my head into a wall when I've explained for the ninety-eleventh time how I don't need horseradish or relish to make spaghetti sauce so could she please stay out of the refrigerator and no, I don't need baking soda either so please close the pantry door while you're at it. I also do realize that I'm beginning to sound like a broken record; luckily for anyone who is still reading this, she only has another six months of being two. My mom likes to call being two "magical" and while I'm not ready to do that (unless we're talking about it feeling like we're in a magical land where I don't always know the rules), I still will not cave and call them the terrible twos. I honestly love so much of this time... and just wonder where my instruction book is so that I can learn how to wipe a runny nose without having to dig thirty pounds of dead weight out of the corner.

Truly, though, the sense of humor on this girl is killer -- she is so funny. She also continues to live life with gusto (another term my mom coined for her and is really accurate) and I love her spunk and her dive-into-it attitude. She is at that age where she is spilling over with ideas, connections, memories and she always wants to know where people are and what they are doing. We never lack for conversation (and I can't get away with an uh-huhs or absent-minded hmmms and oh yeahs... it's all or nothing with her. I've learned to not to go the route of the nothing, too, or else she finds some other way to get my attention) or songs or hot diggity dance moves (during our breakfast, she usually sings "I'm shaking my boo-ty, I'm shaking my boo-ty"). Even during the day when the crazy comes out to play more than usual, the day ends with her telling me that she loves me and really, you can't beat that at any age. I want to bottle up her confidence and her flair for living and give it to her during those doubtful teenage years. I wish she could remember this time in her life and how much she likes herself and doesn't feel like anything needs to slow her down. I'm hoping that sometime, when she's 14 and hating life that she comes back and looks at the pictures of herself with the wild hair, a big grin, and odd sleeping positions and knows what a cool cat she really is -- now and then.

she actually can be really helpful sometimes... and likes to peel garlic, which I hate to do. 

and then there are the not-so-helpful times like when she has found a highlighter in her room and drawn hash marks on any exposed skin after she has gone to bed... and we, of course, have to be up and out early in the morning. 

it took me approximately six months to get Molly to try on her tutu from Nana... and if she hadn't spilled some dinner on it, it might have taken me six months to get it off her. She has added ballerina to her occupations (and loves her ballerina book from Christmas where it shows how to different dances. She does not follow any of the directions accurately but she sure thinks she does). 

finally, finally... the crafter in her is coming out. 

her most important job? Big sister, of course. 

Read Me

I've heard of eyes in the back of your head but how does this work exactly?

Dam It

When you have two kids with colds, the kind of cold accompanied by hacking coughs and runny noses, you're a little limited in what activities you can do. Staying in the house gets a little old but bringing the germ incubators into public can be met with some arched eyebrows and dirty looks -- I really can't blame people for not wanting our microbes sneezed all over them, either. 

So, we packed up our small brood and their guests and traveled down to the Grand Coulee Dam in central Washington. The dam is big and impressive, especially if you're a fan of concrete, but the geology of the area, the history of building the dam, the controversies, and the landscape are all really, really interesting too. Well, that's the adult take on it. If you're a kid, I'm not sure you really give two hoots about a dam (except for the exhibits that are interactive in the visitor center) but you sure do enjoy the park outside and chance to run around and get some wiggles out or eat some grass. 

This puppy is almost a mile long, over 700 feet high, is the largest producer of hydroelectricity in the country, and is just plain gi-normous.

Picnic lunch

Trying to eat some grass...

and put on a sour puss face for taking too many pictures.