Two Be or Not Two Be

In the first five days of being two, Jack decided to throw down the gauntlet. He had his first mega-tantrum, which lasted the entire way out the door, down the steps, into the car, all the way to Molly's school where he barely pulled out of it with the sniffles.  He got hand, foot, and mouth disease and was a bit of a sleeping disaster for a couple of days, and he topped it all off with a sugar-and-lack-of-nap vomitron session at dinner where I had the pleasure of catching his upchuck in one hand (why that seemed like a good idea, I don't know) and trying not to let Miss Gags-A-Lot to look with the other (although she did and threatened to let loose herself). Thankfully, John cleaned it up because, well, Molly gets her gag reflex for those sorts of things from somewhere.  So, in addition to the normal bumps, bruises, and falls that we experience on a daily basis, the beginning of two has been a bit of trial by fire but we have all persevered and I'm expecting the rest of the year to be free of calamity.  That's reasonable, right? 

Here are a few pictures from the remainder of the week -- thanks for all the calls, emails, in-person celebrations, and gifts. The love of trains, trucks, and tractors is evident in the cakes and toys and more than one person around here has been having a lot of fun, lately. 

The actual birthday evening.

A little family celebration over the weekend.

Thanks to my friend Jessie for her cake making tips. Although this does not rise to anywhere near the level of her creations, it would have turned out far worse without her advice. Thankfully, it passed muster for the under-fives and I had fun making it.

Who says rain gear can't be attractive? 

A Most Happy Day

Today, it's his turn to take center stage... as much as he can, anyway. He deserves the spotlight and the attention and all the happy birthdays. Two is a big deal, I think. It's when you really cross over into big-kid land -- when you're allowed to, and very much want to, participate in things that you weren't really welcome to before. Everyone makes a big deal about turning one -- as they should, it's exciting -- but approach the third year with so much caution, gearing up for a challenging time with the ill-conceived "terrible twos" looming. Not me. I love two and always have (and whoever decided that two was terrible apparently hadn't experienced three. Oh vey). Sure, there are lots of trying times and big emotions but it's so exciting. It's not a picnic-a-day sort of exciting but it's a gift to watch these little people try on all these big ideas and feelings, yet be so transparent and generous with their emotions. They still invite you to their party, to bear witness to their triumphs and travails, even as they want to try to do everything themselves. It's certainly a time for readjustment for moms and dads (and siblings), especially if they have gotten used to having a laid back, funny bunny, eager tag-a-long, but it's not a time I would trade for the world (except when we have to go grocery shopping and to the post office. I am willing to give those precious moments to someone else). In short, two is cool.

I love watching Jack start to own his space. He loves to, and is willingly subjected to, Molly's games and imaginings. He comes back for more no matter how many times he is unceremoniously booted out of the game once she's had enough of him or when her whim dictates. And in return?  He makes nary a peep but man, can he push her buttons. He can strike with surgical precision to bring on a full force squeal/scream/loud protestation. And he knows it. He knows what he is capable of. I have a hard time helping them sort things out without laughing because it's just so apparent that he has her number. He rarely goes too far, unless he's tired or hungry, but can go just far enough to get some sort of outsized reaction. He also has a trick or two up his sleeve for me some days... I won't lie. But, thankfully, he keeps his plotting restrained and more than being devilish, he loves to be social -- not in a show off sort of way but in a really happy, ambassador-for-fun sort of way. School has been a really fun adventure and he's completely embraced being a part of his class. It took Jack a few weeks of school to embrace his Bumblebee membership but now he owns it with pride. He flaps his wings, makes his buzz buzz sound, and sings his goodbye song with gusto... and plays at the train table for the other 95% of class. It surprised me, how much he loved being a part of this group but he sure does. Trains do dominate his life although he generously makes time for fire trucks, construction vehicles, cars, garbage trucks, "scoo busssss" (school buses), and "itty bussss" (city buses), too. Oh, and men. He loves men. Loves them. When a dad works in his classroom or is at the playground, Jack is drawn to him like a moth to a flame. He hugs, climbs on his back, leads him by the hand -- he is completely drawn to dudes (which has caused some consternation among some of his lady classmates who are rather protective of their dads).

Although the fight in him can be strong, he rarely gets bent out of shape. He has a lot of typical second-child characteristics -- which makes for a nice compliment to his rather alpha sister. He thinks he is funny but doesn't feel the need to make everyone around him laugh. As long as he's laughing, he's pretty happy. He is a watcher and a learner, rather than throwing himself headlong into everything. He soaks in a lot of information that I am unaware he is soaking in until it comes back to bite me in some way, shape, or form. He is mischievous, that one, and enjoys a cruising altitude that is just under the radar. This can be unfortunate because he is fascinated by computers, phones, remotes, radios, whatever technology you are silly enough to leave within his reach.

There's so much to my Buddha Belly boy but I feel like I have a hard time adequately capturing him in stories or adjectives. More than anything, he is a warm fuzzy feeling, a sweet snuggle, a big belly laugh, and now, since he's two, a little bit of spice. I hope that the silly monkey in him lives forever, that his generous spirit serves him well, and that he continues to give as much love (for trains or dads or whatever) as he serves up today. And, I hope he stops pulling out every envelope and mailing label at the post office. Please.


The birthday morning started out well -- who doesn't love a candle in his waffle?

Let's just say that I was not going near that spit-soaked waffle after a few rounds of blowing out the candle with no success. Luckily, back-up was right there and chomping at the bit to help out... 

Now, with two of them going at it, there was really no way I was sharing in that waffle/germ fest. Thankfully, I hadn't left them all on the same plate.

With that out of the way, Jack got to choose one present to open at breakfast. It's a good thing he chose this one so that...

he could, once again, receive some assistance from his aide-de-camp.

who was the first one to embrace and announce:

Super Jack!

new cape modeled by big sister. Thanks Stockwells!

October Road

I am a shameless lover of traditions, which most of you know by now. I don't need overly big and elaborate annual events but I love going back to the same thing year after year, hopefully drilling into my own kids' memories the same sorts of things that I (and John) enjoyed as small people. It really doesn't need to be a perfect or amazing outing each year; it's always the funny or totally wacky times that you remember as an adult anyway (like the many number of years that we froze our tushies off waiting for my persnickity brother to find the perfect Christmas tree that only he was qualified to pick. We tromped around in more circles...). What's important to me, though, is that we do it -- adding or substituting people along the way -- and that we make the effort to spend the time together. Simply picking out a pumpkin or sitting around a Thanksgiving table or opening presents together on Christmas morning is not going to solve the world's problems nor is it a panacea for the bumps in the road that come with raising children. What it does mean, though, is that we care enough to create opportunities to be in each other's presence. It means that our idea of family can be as small as the four of us or as large as the number of people who can crowd around a table. It means that we create shared experiences so that we have a common thread running through us for the rest of our lives. It helps build, I think, part of the foundation that create strong family bonds that will allow us to navigate those bumpy roads with each other. I  love the everyday stuff of family life but I also really, really love when the everyday gets punctuated by the extraordinary. It's fun for the day but it becomes more than a single day's memory when it's woven into the tapestry of "we do this every year". Sometimes, wearing rose colored glasses to see our little universe is the best thing we can do for ourselves. It's a way to restore our souls. I drink up these traditions and it's why when the autumn equinox rolls around on the calendar, I start getting really excited. All times of the year have their own wonderful traditions but the ones from October to December hold special magic for me. For one thing, I'm allowed to break out my tchotchkes and decorate the nooks and crannies that seem a little spartan the rest of the year. And it just rolls on from there. The trip to the pumpkin patch is one of my all time favorites and this year we were able to enjoy it with the cousins and Uncle Eric and Auntie Holly. I don't know if it's the mazes or the six inches of inevitable mud or the weird, slightly out of place, people/events that pop up, or finding the perfect orange globe (or gourd) but I really love the pumpkin patch. This year being no exception, and with the added benefit of the smell of horse manure to make things even earthier (oh, New Hampshire, you're in my blood), we had a good time. Jack loved the tractor ride, the girls did the hay maze twenty times and got to ride on ponies, and I made our family lug home big pumpkins. It's just the beginning of the season but so far, it's off to a good start. 

Which way is out?

No time to talk, must navigate my way through.

The crew.

Nice. Really nice. 

Waiting in line is much more fun with a friend. 

So is the tractor ride.

Unless you're this guy, in which case it's just amazingly fun. 

I can't pick this up but you can, Dad.

Ummm... I believe that was purchased for my benefit?

Beach Bums

Who says that 50 degrees (but sunny!) doesn't make for a prime beach day?






















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Outside, Inside, Upside Down

And the Blogmother is back...

Now is when I give a big, fat round of applause (I almost wrote applesauce... this brain mush of mine is becoming sorrier by the minute) to my fantastic partner in crime. I truly did not worry for one second of my three day excursion to my cousin's wedding... well, maybe when someone admitted that he'd been using paper towels at diaper change time when the wipes ran out. Ouch. No really, he made it waaay too easy on me to hop on a plane and leave and I appreciate it more than words. All I can say is... Vegas, baby, Vegas. Except I don't like Vegas so much so maybe it's Spa, baby, Spa.

Anyhoo, as I was running in drizzly rain today, I was thinking about how this was going to be the first day in a long time where we couldn't get to the playground or go bike riding without putting our rain gear on. Because, yes, it rains a lot here but it's not like the Ark is on standby everyday to take us places. It's usually drizzle or mist and we actually receive less rainfall than Boston here (but do have more overcast days, it's true). So, even on days where there is precipitation, it isn't an all day affair and we get out. We've also had an incredibly mild fall so we've been able to get our afternoon wiggles out by bike riding or playgrounding almost every day. There are over ten playgrounds within three miles of us and, while we have our favorites, we make good use of most of them on a regular basis. And true to what the old ladies like to say in the grocery store line, most days the critters do indeed go running in opposite directions. If there's an open tennis court or field, Jack beelines it there to run in circles (weird?) and lusts after every clean, mangy, nice, growly, deaf dog he can spot and that is looking for squealing affection. He's the least picky kid when it comes to those of the canine persuasion. The more kisses on the face, the better. He avoids swings at all costs, but dogs? Those things rank right after trains in his hit parade. The swing aversion is unfortunate because guess who could swing and hang upside down all day long? Yup. The blonde tornado. The more blood that rushes through her ears, the better. The more dramatic shrieks to come help her but when I show up she wants to do it herself, the better. The more people she invites over that we've never met, the better. I think I've "cancelled" more play dates that she's set up than we've ever had in our lifetime. Oh, I love the playground. Except when I don't, because sometimes I won't (Dr. Seuss needs to exit my brain mush). And it's on those days that I can't quite stomach dogs or monkey bars that we go biking. Molly has finally gotten over braking up hill -- because someone taught her to skid so now that's pretty fun. Or not for me as she careens into pricker bushes. Jack, as you saw from the Blogfather, prefers to push the stroller (that stroller is pure gold. Do you know how much easier the grocery store is with that thing? It's A-M-A-Z-I-N-G) or ride in the Cozy Coupe. I've put the CC in the shop for a few days, however, because he will take off at breakneck speeds (as breakneck and plastic wheels allow) until he crashes in to railings. It's hilarious -- to him. Not to me.

So, maybe I'm a little glad that we had an inside day today. It was a cozy, happy afternoon with only a few jumps from high places (ahem) and no dogs or bikes. We'll take the rain and drizzle every now and again, if only because it makes us appreciate how much we do love getting our wiggles out in the out of doors.

And the fun begins...

On the way up... to upside down.

Sometimes two-footing it isn't so bad, right?

Notice a trend with the flower picking? This boy can not pass a dandelion without swooning. 

There is mischief afoot. 

Keeping tabs on the uphill progress.

These two are all about the teamwork -- the boss lady directs and the minion pushes.

Hi mom, I'm going to fool you into thinking I'm a benign driver.

Pedal pusher.

Jeff "Jack" Gordon scoping out which ramps to fly down and which railings to run into. 

Super sonic speed racer. 

Day 2

I'll come clean: Thomas and Friends stopped by for a while on Saturday morning, allowing the Blogfather to catch a few extra minutes of dozing alongside the kids. Possibly a good while by the standards in your own homes. During this time though, the Blogfather deduced a new Law of Parenting while taking in Thomas' trance-inducing theme song over and over again:

shunting trucks + hauling freight = dozing late

For those who absorb scientific laws in equation form, here's a good one:

(st + hf)*e = zzzzzz
where e = episodes viewed.

Do you like the italics? I remember many textbooks using italics to emphasize "This is something meaningful that you are unlikely to comprehend on your first try."  Doesn't it seem more meaningful now?

Yes, the Blogfather's preference for remaining in at least a partially sleeping state after 6 AM got the best of him once again. I extend congrats to all superparents out there who run 10 miles before dawn, wage daily war against the evil TV and its ability to rapidly degenerate the human sprirt, and whip up a 3-course homemade breakfast. Did you get it posted to Facebook yet? In the meantime, chortle away at the Blogfather's selfish weakness in comparison to your superiority. Yes, you have more perserverance and skill than the Blogfather.

For all of you worried this forfeit to Thomas Inc. confirms the Blogmother has been victimized by a mere mainstream mortal, have no fear: most details of the Thomas profit machine do not slip under the radar, even in a state of partial sleepiness while children sit on the Blogfather and scream "Emily!!" when she comes chugging into the screen. The most obvious manifestations of Thomas' revenue engine are 1) the proliferation of train characters to cover just about every type of human being, and 2) the evolution of his theme song, which years ago was a simple trance-inducing British kid diddy, but has since been recreated in full pop and rap versions.

The kids were lobbying hard to watch college football after breakfast, but they also told me they were looking for an opportunity to learn and grow as human beings, so we headed to the children's museum. On the way, we took advantage of the three best kids' amusement rides in Seattle next to the Space Needle - the light rail line, the monorail, and public elevators. Who needs Disney when you can catch a monorail every day? Apparently public transit is called Undriving here in Seattle. One might call it 45 minutes each way, vs. a 15 minute car ride. But it's solid time for big eyes and smiles. If kids ran the town, I'm pretty sure we'd all get around in trolley cars.

Hey how did this picture from work get here. Sox collapse. Sigh.

Inbound!

The Monorail - an amazing wonder of modern technology - coming soon to every town in America.

Yes, it's real rock. Or is it?

Jack jumps into the driver's seat. Molly makes a break for the door.

Jack makes a break from pinkie as the camera comes out. 

(defenders of gender neutrality: fear not. no stereotypes were reinforced in the making of this picture. jack was encouraged to roll confidently in any car.)

Molly picked off the whale going 60 in a 40.