trains. . . real trains. . .

Drawing train pictures. . . and railroad crossings. . . and roads. . . images from his ABC Trains book.

Mama, can we ride a real train?

Sure.

We need to get into the book. [pause]

Yeah, but I don't know how we can jump into this book. We need a magic wand to "ka-ploosh" me in there. I will go all by myself. But I need a magic wand.


Love that childhood magic. I had almost forgotten about Jack going through the same phase. Wanting to go into books. Trying to figure out the magic of getting there. Especially Peter Pan. He loved Peter Pan and wanted to fly with him most of all.

Love this.

peas for brunch. . .

Mmmm.....

Peas.........

OK. The Baby Food Bible (aka Super Baby Foods. . . one of the books I clung to like a Mama Life Raft when Jack was a wee babe) advises that new foods be introduced during the first meal of the day. . . so that if the baby has an allergic reaction. . . or a gassy one. . . that it's not in the middle of the night, keeping him awake.

So..... It's worked for Jack and Luke (well, it really doesn't matter with Luke. . . he never slept anyway. . .). So, why change now?

Ethan's first meal of the day seems to fall sometime between 9 and 10 o'clock. Which doesn't really seem to be a problem when you're having bananas. . . and pears. . . peaches. . . maybe apples. . . But now, we're moving into veggie territory. Carrots. And now, for the last three days: peas.

And as I give him spoonful after spoonful of green mushy peas. . . Which he eagerly yums right down. . . I begin to think. . . Peas. . . For brunch? Really? And can you really call 9 am brunch? I mean, that's really pushing the breakfast boundary, isn't it?

Aunt Erin assures me that it's fine.

That giving him peas for breakfast can't really be causing him irreparable harm. . .

Until he's ten, that is, and telling me that instead of pancakes, he'd like so yummy peas for breakfast.

dinner at cafe zeli. . .

Yesterday, Nan and PapPap brought us a new picnic table. . . big and wooden. . . and perfect for the backyard.

PapPap and Sam set it up close to the "playground" (Luke's words for our playset out back. . . his personal playground). And tonight, we had dinner outside. . .

Beautiful. Listening to the birds sing. And drinking in the sunshine.

Ethan in his baby seat beside us (on top of the table), smiling. . . giggling. . . watching Luke climb up and down and slide and run and swing. That big brother is such a source of entertainment.

Noodle soup (for Jack) and chicken and rice (for the bigs) never tasted better.

Popsicles from the ice cream man for dessert.

So relaxing.

And we stayed outside. Just watching the boys play. . . Well... Just watching the boys beat the tree leaves with sticks. And sing the "stinker song". . . a lovely variation of the humming of Tchaikovsky with intermittenly musical "stinkers" (you know the kind of noises that little boys can make, with lips and teeth and cheeks full of air). . . well-timed. . . in unison. . . and a source of endless little boy laughter. Dada laughed until he couldn't breathe.
And Mama. . . poor Mama. . .

Life with boys. . .

But, a beautiful evening. Perfect family moments.

peanut butter & jelly

Jack (or Jaxon, as he prefers now) likes one kind of food and will eat it into oblivion. . . Day after day after day. For his second year, he had jelly toast for breakfast every morning with a banana. We would say, Ding! Toooast! every time it was done in the little toaster oven. Then, we moved on to peanut butter & jelly sandwiches for lunch. Then ham and cheese. Mac and cheese. Noodle soup. And now, crackers and cheese.

But, for the past few months, he has been open to trying new things. Many new things. Makes me proud. And a bit sentimental, because my boy is growing.

I haven't been grocery shopping in over a week. And the stocks are getting low. Yesterday, it was ham and cheese on an old hamburger bun (that I tried to cut off the top and bottom and disguise the fact that it was an old hamburger bun, to no avail. . . he's too smart for me now). Today, I found some leftover Pepperidge farm cinnamon and raisin bread leftover from french toast last weekend. Mmmm, now that would make a gooood peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

And, as I was making it, I remembered that little three year old boy who wanted peanut butter and jelly every afternoon for lunch. And how he would complain if the jelly or peanut butter slopped over the sides onto the crust. "I can't eat this," he would say. "Why?" I would ask. "Because it is all dirty."

Good memories.

As for today's sandwich. He declared, "This rocks." Only to eat half a sandwich. Oh, well, at least he's still up to trying new things.

I sent him to upstairs at 11:00. . .

after a beautiful evening under the stars. . .

Told him I'd be up in a moment so we could "brush teeth". . .

And here's were I found him. . .

first day of summer. . .

just a Tuesday night

Crowded together in the car. . .driving to see Miss Kriten for an all boys haircut night. . .making silly jokes about new hairstyles for Dada: A fauxhawk or half shaved or a puffy raccoon hat. . .

Fun times. . .

Love that we're so packed in. . . together. . . now that we have the "vinnie man", I cherish these moments of "so together-ness".