New Tricks

Ashley has enthusiastically discovered clapping. I find her doing it all the time now. She especially loves to do it to any of the clapping rhymes or songs we know (Pattycake, If You're Happy and You Know it, etc.), and even Everett gets a thrill out of doing it alongside her.

Apparently her verbal comprehension is developing as well, because generally all I have to do is say "clap, clap, clap!" and she will beam and start hitting her little hands together. Sometimes I do it with her, sometimes I don't, but either way, it is a lot of fun.

It seems that I'm always surprised when Ashley reaches milestones. I think this must be typical, since she is the second child and I've been through all of this before. She seems so much younger to me than Everett did at this age, but I know this is because my primary focus in life is not counting down the days to her next new skill.

Here is a quick video of her clapping. She looks all retro--that shirt is a hand-me, hand-me, hand-me down, and I think it was probably for a boy! (not that we care.)

Empathizing

Just a post to say to those of you in Utah with six inches of freshly fallen snow. . .

We sympathize with you. We feel bad for you. We really do.


. . . .Hah. But we sure are enjoying our 70-degree weather!






Especially when accompanied by trips to the park to hit some balls around in the softball diamond.

I had some good hits, but when we tried to get Everett to let us help him hit the ball with the bat, he insisted on doing it by himself. It will be funny to see how willing he is to take pointers from Joel in a few years when he really needs them.

Everett was more interested in the men playing soccer, however, and would escape so he could watch. Every time I tried to get him to come in the diamond with us, he would protest, point to the soccer field, and say matter-of-factly,

"ball, mama!"

Well. I supposed I couldn't argue with that. As much fun as we were having, we stopped and sat on the bleachers to watch the men play.

"Oohhhhhhhhh!"

Another perfect day. Joel was home from work, it was beautiful weather, and the smell of spring had filled our apartment, thanks to our open windows. Perfect.

It's happened!

Well, it's happened. Ever since Ashley has learned to crawl (though it was only days ago), she has been trying to pull up on everything she sees.

Now it is her activity of choice. Ashley will pull up to the couch, up to the exersaucer, up on the DVD drawers, and up on me. The other day while I was cooking, she kept coming in and pulling up on my leg, then laughing and laughing and laughing. I think she was pretty pleased with herself that she "caught" me.

So far she isn't much of a trouble-maker. In fact, she has been a lot happier since she has learned to move around, though she does get frustrated when she finally gets to a room where I am only for me to leave again.

I don't know if she will be an early walker or if she will just be content at this stage for a while, but I don't care either way. She is happy and pretty pleased with herself.

The best

This is my husband, Joel. He is some kind of wonderful.

I know you're dying to hear why he is so wonderful, so I suppose I'll let you in on just one of the many reasons:

He puts effort into the housework. Without reminders. And without resentment.

For instance:

We are having some dear friends over for dinner today. What did he do when he woke up this morning? He started cleaning, folks. Yes, that's right, cleaning. I did not ask him to do this. I was not going to ask him to do this (there wasn't that much to do). While he was at it, he even organized Everett's room.

And you know the best part? He does this every time we have company over. He does not have to be asked, he just looks around and finds something to do.

I tell you what, my husband is the best.

Sorry, he's not for sale, trade, or borrow.

Although I would be willing to work out a housework labor/monetary exchange sort of deal, if you want to use him for that. Interested? You know where to reach me.

Busted

Last Friday, Joel and I experienced first-hand the benefit of having family living close by. My wonderful parents volunteered (volunteered!) to watch the kids overnight so Joel and I could go on a date together. It was the perfect timing, with Joel having just come off busy season, and with me ready for some quality time.

We went to Tyson's Corner, shopped a little, ate, and came back to the mall's parking garage just as a magnificent coral sunset was filling the sky. At my suggestion (eyelashes may have been batted, but that will not be confirmed here), we drove to the very top of the parking garage where we could enjoy the brilliant rays in solitude.

Now, being that we had barely seen each other over the past week, and being that we were out without the children, we were happy to take the opportunity to park.

Oh, stop looking at me like that. Our vehicle was parked. We were just sitting next to each other. Juuuust sitting. I promise!

But, try telling that to the bored cop mall security officer who drove up right next to us just as Joel and I locked eyes and I began to think about leaning in. A hundred things went through my mind as I turned to my door, heard the mechanical hum of our respective car windows receding and saw the officer lean out of his window.

"You need to move down," he said.

"B-bbut, we were just watching the sunset," I squeaked.

"I'm sorry, but we've had too many problems up here. You need to leave." He eyed me, then Joel, considering our car's placement and our intentions.

I tried my best to look innocent and upright, and averted his gaze.

Joel started the car, we righted our seats, and then we crept down from the deserted upper level. I looked in my side view mirror and saw the officer following us a large enough distance away that his car resembled a medium-sized toy. We found a reasonable garage level, parked, and watched as the officer circled around the floor. Eventually he left--but slowly, so as to ensure we were indeed getting out of the car.

We laughed and slinked into the mall, feeling like rebel teenagers, and experiencing a strange sense of sheepishness mixed with incredulity. Needless to say, we learned an important lesson:

Never try to be romantic in your car when there is the chance of a police officer stopping you.

Or, as Joel would put it:

Sentimentality is overrated.

In Case Anyone Has Any False Assumptions

This is how we are the majority of the time at our house:

Crawling around on poorly-swept floors.
(And don't worry; we put all items we find on the floor directly in our mouths.
Lisa, I know you're shuddering right now.)





Very dirty shirts (spit-up on me, food on Everett).

Marker covering any and all exposed appendages.
Don't miss the dot on the cheek or the marks on the pants.

There is a reason I have only washable markers in my house, and this is he.

Sneaking contraband candy which is too big to fit comfortably in the mouth all in one piece, all while too engrossed in a movie to notice the waves of chocolate slime coming out of the mouth.

And, the entire time pretending to be unaware of any voice resembling his mother's.

Santa Claus potato faces. . .

And the eating without bibs because we need to wash the shirt anyway
and I have more shirts than bibs approach.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

So don't worry! My kids are still alive, I am still alive, and Joel is still alive. And we're building very healthy immune systems while we're at it. My kids rarely get sick, and this is all for their overall good. Right? Right?

Snow Day

We had a really good snowfall yesterday. I don't know what the actual count was, but it seemed that there were at least six inches covering the ground (this is nothing to you Utahns, but we take what we can get out here).

And, since Joel finished up with busy season at the end of last week (hurrah!), he was told to stay home.

That's right folks, we had. . .a Snow Day! All together!


Joel took Everett out after his nap, and when Ashley and I joined them, I discovered that Everett was having a lot of fun. Much more fun, in fact, than when I take him out.

When I take Everett out in the snow, we generally just have a running commentary of nature.

"Look, son, notice the distinct shape the icicles coming off the slide have, similar to stalactites one might find in a deep cave."

Ok, not really, but you get the idea. We do just fine, and Everett does learn how to describe things with words like "cold, wet, white, soft", but we're usually lacking in jumping-around-energy.


But this is what happens when Papa takes him out (I'm a little surprised Everett could do anything, given the 47 layers I dressed him in):

Climbing

Sliding so fast your jacket will blow right off





Snow Angels

Laying in the snow

Aaaannnd. . . what's this? We can throw balls made out of snow?

That's so neat--wait--RUN!


Then, in case Joel didn't get Everett snowballed enough, there's always this approach:

(warning: this movie is not edited for length, importance, or clarity)

Then if you add coming inside to a dinner of split-pea soup and hot rye bread, well, you can't have a day more perfect than that. I'm so glad we had this snow day, probably the last of the season, though I haven't checked the forecast. It is always fun when Joel is home on a work day.