This and that

Calvin, looking a little bit sticky.

An afternoon snack at home.

From mom's last visit-- Audrey is schooled in being a bookworm by Gramma Jean.

I am thankful for the sweetly unexpected.

I'm not sure why I had the camera pointed at them when I filmed this, but I'm glad I did.

Just like his sister. Only more.

It's been a long time since I complained here about my children's sleep habits, right? So I hope no one minds a bit of a rant on that subject today; I need it. Having just wrestled Calvin down for a late morning nap, I have jangling nerves. This kid will not go down for a nap peacefully, and every time I have to put him down screaming it's like having a little bit of my soul sandpapered off. I hate it. But he's exhausted, no question about that, and he's about twenty pounds too heavy and a year too old to be carried, or driven too and fro, even if I were willing to do those things. Descriptions of soothing sleep routines make me laugh. And schedules-- more bitter, hollow laughter. Soothe all you want to, and try to put him down before he's wired-tired but the moment you actually have to put him down, get ready to have your blood curdled.

I am frankly amazed that other people are able to simply put a tired child down into their bed without this epic struggle. How can it be so utterly different with my children? What on earth are we doing wrong? Rhetorical question, of course! I don't believe in "Sleep Solutions" anymore and have tossed the book by that title right into the trash. And if you were hoping to borrow my copy of "The Baby Whisperer," you'll have to look for it there as well. It's right underneath those coffee grounds, and Audrey's soggy bran flakes from this morning.

Wow, hey, Kris-- sounding a little bit off kilter today, aren't we? Get a grip, woman!

There's a tiny wedge of a bright side to all this sleep horror: Audrey sleeps soundly through the night, every night. She quit napping entirely well before she turned three (and no, it's not because she no longer needs the sleep), but at least we can put her to bed and count on not hearing from her again until Calvin wakes her up in the morning-- which he does by marching down the hall and banging her door open like he's entering the saloon in a Western.

And every morning that I see this I know again how much I love them both and their indomitable spirits. For the next 18 or so years I will be seeing, I'm sure, hundreds of variations on this same theme. As adults they will never have to work through their issues with trying to please their mother because they do not appear to have this impulse-- and I know, in the bigger picture, I should be glad for this. I wish they could both just wait a few years before exhibiting this helpful trait quite so strongly.

Morning, Pa Skip. Here's an excellent lichen specimen.

I've made much (too much?) out of Audrey's interest in lichen because I hope she'll develop a passion for the sciences and soon begin gathering her own laboratory equipment like litmus testing papers and a magnifying glass and all that stuff-- oooh, I can't wait to foist all of my own interests on her! And won't she appreciate me for that!!

Anyway. She was genuinely excited to see this lichen. And we wanted to share our find with Pa Skip, geologist of the field. This rock is part of a big outcropping in a tiny patch of conservation land near our house. I have that mixture of delight-panic-dread about the on-coming cold; every walk or playtime outside feels like it may be the last for months. The inside of the house feels both cozy and confining. But the weekend was unseasonably warm and we were out collecting sunlight as much as we could, storing it up.

One year ago today I raked some leaves, and then...

We finished raking at about 12:30, came in and had some lunch, and while I was eating my sandwich I said, "Hey, uhm, Scott, I think maybe..."

Quick call to midwife to confirm, and we were off! Called Rebecca and Hank, dropped Audrey off next door with Stephanie who would hand her off to Rebecca (and also, since Steph is an OB we had a quick driveway chat during which she suggested that we should get to Mt. Auburn oh, about, IMMEDIATELY) so we made the drive (eerily familiar except less of a feeling of wild unknown this time, more of a wild known), I walked right on past registration and headed to Labor and Delivery (I'll fill out paperwork later folks, I'm kind of busy here) and at 3:10, I was, as they say, delivered of my son.

The events of November 8, 2009 have, among other things, forever changed the way that I feel about yard work.

Calvin, we couldn't imagine things around here with another child. Couldn't believe that someone else would rewrite our lives the way that Audrey had. Now we can't imagine the world without you.

Happy 1st Birthday, Bonzo.

Scott's mad carving skills

This last pumpkin attracted special notice; three different people told us we should go see Despicable Me.

Happy Halloween!

Simian Calvin
Gramma Jean (witch) with princess and monkey on Westmoreland Ave.

Neighbor Lynda offers a choice: candy, or broccoli?

Sugar-fueled happiness!!!!!!