A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words

I leave one of our weekday mornings unplanned and un-activied so that we can go outside and enjoy our usually gorgeous weather. On these mornings when I wake up and see gray skies or big, non-playground-conducive clouds or rain drops about to be a-fallin' on my head, a little bit of panic can set in because we're the type of people who have a lot of wiggles and we need to get them out. The other morning, when the above happened, I didn't panic -- oh no. We embraced the rainy cold and got excited about an inside morning. Since my kids would always prefer to be in as few clothes as possible, they disrobed and became human paintbrushes. 

Not sure about this stuff, mom.

I, on the other hand, am completely sure about this.

I'd rather show off how I stand on my own...

and then have a dangerously close encounter with a plumber look (one with love handles).

and then I'll show off my stunning physique.
 

A little face pain always makes things go better.

I don't know why they call it "finger paint"...

 

it's much better described as body paint. 

I'm out of here with all this madness.

Jack "Dangerfield" Doyle

One for the Books

We had a little birthday brunch celebration for Jack's birthday this morning with our good friends. Although the muffins were a miserable failure, it was really fun to celebrate our little big man's day. True to the cliche, I can't believe it's been a year since we first met the little dude; he snuggled and charmed his way into our lives the moment he arrived (although, at this time last year I was wondering when the heck he was going to arrive).

They (the ever-elusive "they") say that the first birthday is more of a milestone for parents than for munchkins since it means we made it through the first year (relatively) unscathed. That may be true for the first kid but I think Jack deserves lots credit for making it through his inaugural year with an enthusiastic sibling, crazy schedules, multiple cross-country trips, the occasional "oops, I forgot to change your diaper all day" brain lapse on his mom's part, toys being unceremoniously ripped out of his hands, many hair brushings, sharing his bed with inanimate babies, countless bear hugs, lots of schlepping around, and many, many other moments of madness. He does it, best of all, with a sunny disposition and a good natured gleam in his eye. I'm already proud of my boy for his forgiving nature and  for having a lot of fight in him when he decides that he's had enough.

Thanks, most of all, little Jack Peter, for putting up with your mom's enthusiastic crafting today. Please don't outgrow your need for a cape and a crown.

The birthday plate for the littlest super hero.

Who could have guessed that Molly would try and take possession of ALL the crowns??

Super Jack

Look how happy he is in his birthday cape... 

Someone spies the cupcakes.

Hey people, what happened?? Bring the good stuff over this way.

Molly's birthday present to Jack -- maple leaf ribbon.

I spy something chocolatey...

No dad, I will not share with you. 

Fish Kiss

When I was little, someone asked me what my dad did for a job. "He counts sheets" is what I told them. Of course he did. Doesn't every hospital in the country need a sheet counter? I mean, my dad is good at math, he likes things orderly, and... I've got nuthin' else. I did think it was a cool job, though. What goes around comes around, apparently, because when Molly asked where John was the other day and when I said "at work, downtown", she said (with complete certainty), "oh, he's kissing the fish". Ummmm... Me: "Is that what dad does at work?" Molly: "Yup" and she went back to her readily scheduled programming like it was no big deal. In all fairness, there is a fish tank at John's work and I guess I never got a copy of his official job description so maybe she's on to something? The real question is if it's demotion since she used to report that he would "look at his computer and talk on the phone" at work. Frankly, that sounds pretty boring compared to kissing fish. 

Help Me Help You

Remember how Molly likes to sit in her Cozy Coupe and order up her coffees (large double double or a latte)? She recently realized that she was missing an important piece of her game... the order taker:

Hello, my name is Jack, how may I help you?

And guess what else she taught him? Monkey see, monkey do... 

I wish I could blame the giant bruise on his forehead from this madness but unfortunately, homeboy is trying to figure out walking on his own two little feet and isn't so good at it yet. I'm not sure who won the battle today -- Jack or the rock he face-planted into. Luckily, he can accessorize his way out of any situation...

It's fun/funny/sometimes frightening watching these two monkeys become better and better friends (or maybe frenemies would be a better description...). Oh, there are plenty of disagreements (they usually go like this: Molly is coloring or doing stickers or stealing Jack's toys and I hear a "no Buddy, no Buddy, NO BUDDY, BUD-DDY NO. MOM, BUDDY WANTS MY [insert toy] " I look over and Jack's often nowhere near where Molly is and is happily entertaining himself by looking for uncovered outlets where he can electrocute himself. Trying to point out the obvious fact -- that Jack isn't interested in her stuff right this second -- is usually an exercise in futility, and I'm usually deaf from the protestations by the end of it) but there are more and more really sweet moments when they play together, make each other laugh, and she shows him new tricks. Today, we were riding to the playground and I said something to Molly and she said "Mom, you interrupted me and Buddy. We were talking." There you go... of course I did. Have at it, kids. 

Patching Things Up

Is there any better fall tradition that hopping off to the pumpkin patch, getting a big bag of apples (the answer here is yes, picking apples is so much better than buying apples but I can't find anywhere around here to pick our own, which is crazy considering it's like the apple capital of the world), drinking yummy cider, and playing with strange pumpkin people? We took our happy-that-it's-autumn selves up to Vernon this weekend and had all sorts of farm fun. 

Finding that perfect specimen.

Captain Wiggles, the Pumpkin Daddy, and Pumpkin Spice.

Riding the pumpkin train.

Who's excited to sit with mom?


Not me. It's much more fun to try and hurl myself out the side.

Some of the slightly eerie pumpkin people.

Hey dad, can you get off my tractor?

Or are you comfy there?

Working Hard For The Money

I'm pretty sure that Jack is the hardest working little dude on the block right now (second only, perhaps, to the kid across the street who is still souping up his car. I have no idea what could possibly be left to do on it). People have started noticing his determination (and seem to love to comment on how I have my hands full -- do I look that exhausted and bedraggled? Okay, yes, yes I do. Chasing after two very fast, very climb-y, very mobile, very wiggly people is exhausting. And yes, I ordered cheese with my whine), including the woman at the playground this morning who was there with three  boys and still felt that his determination to get places was noteworthy and wanted to keep pointing it out to me. Like many of his second-born brethren, he is relentlessly happy (until he's very unhappy and then holy smokes you know it), and will fly under the radar until he's found total trouble. I don't know if it's a boy thing or what but I spend a lot of the day unplugging night lights, rearranging furniture to hide cords and outlets that I didn't even know they were there, putting cups and plates and pots and pans back intro drawers, and playing musical gates because every time I turn my back, he's into some sort of mischief. Molly is fairly reliable at letting me know when some stuff is happening but her tattling is most reliable if he's into her stuff (and then I certainly hear about that). Surprisingly, he really enjoys being in the stroller and will ride and ride (until the moment we stop when he wants out rightthissecond) checking out the scenery, listening to the medley of tunes from his warbling neighbor, and looking at every airplane and helicopter overhead. He is still a little flirt and loves to show off his tricks (so big, clapping, lifting his palms up when we say "what happened?" [this is my fave], saying kitty, waving, dancing, pushing all imaginable objects around the room, etc.) and has slowly started standing on his own . He also has been enjoying Molly's school as much, if not more, than Molly has. So many toys! and kids! and paint (grrr)! and room to roam! He wiggles his way out of my arms when we walk in and burns a blue streak over to play with stuff and does not seem to care one whit if I'm there or not. He is a hard worker, little Mr. Jack Peter, and I love all his boyish energy and industriousness.

"This plate looks mighty fine right next to this plate and those bowls and that cup..."

"Don't you agree, Mom?"

"I'll take this out and taste test it"

"and then I'll taste this one"

"Hmmm... and maybe this one too"

"Really, for good measure, I'll just taste them all (and then put them back in)"

"Wha' happened?"

"I'm going to clap for you, and for me, and for me, and for me"

"Guess what? I'm still SO big!"

Well Trained

October can only mean one thing around these parts (these parts being wherever I happen to live)... Halloween is a-coming! I really, really like the costumes, the decorations (admittedly these have been weak for the past few years given some people's propensity for messing with my stuff), the candy corn, the cute kids... I love it all. I've made Molly's costumes for the past two years and was planning on making her agreed-upon (in February) spider costume this year... until she decided that she wanted to be a train conductor instead. I'm a bit stymied about how to go about making this (I'm pretty sure I can't pull off making a conductor hat. I'm not really a precision sewer). I have some ideas and will probably end up having to buy parts of it but if anyone has any suggestions, let me know... my best idea was to try and steer her back to being a spider but her willpower seems to have quadrupled lately and I have a feeling that my time is better spent figuring out this train conductor deal rather than go up against the force of the blonde tornado.

Chugga-chugga...