Hospitality

Erika's folks are visiting. Right now they're cutting up cardboard to use as blinds so they don't have to wake up at sunrise tomorrow. We're excellent hosts. It's like Schrute Farms over here. Come, stay at our home! Make your own blinds!

What I Miss

Chris went to Minnesota this weekend to pick up our lawnmower from the Conners' garage, where they have graciously stored it for us until we bought a house. Now we have the house, and the grass is growing like it's on steroids, so it was time to go get it. He took Casey and Darby with him so that I could get some work done. Red Line, the company I worked for briefly before Darby was born, gave me my first writing assignment. They specialize in nonfiction books for school libraries. My assignment is a junior high-level biography of Gloria Steinem. I'm really excited about it.

I've gotten a lot of work done this weekend, and it's been nice having the house to myself for a couple days. Of course I miss my boys and look forward to their return later today. But drinking my tea this morning, I got to thinking about what I really miss about being childless, and it's not much. It's just a little bit of quiet in the mornings. I've never been a morning person. I like to ease into things with a soothing cup of tea and a look at the news sites. When Chris and I moved in together, he infuriated me by blasting songs like "Come On Feel The Noise" at what I felt were ridiculously early hours. I once made him a chart showing examples of what kinds of music he was permitted to play at different times of day. I'm pretty sure he kept it, but not because he was planning on following it.

Oh, I miss those days. Now my day regularly begins at 6:30 a.m. That's when the boys wake up and immediately are all up in my face: "Feed me! Love me! Nurture me! Play with me!" Within seconds of opening my eyes, Darby is demanding a three-course meal and consecutive readings of "Charlie at the Zoo." Casey starts running around happily yelling, "Mom, let's have a blanket party! Mom, let's play Moonbeam Bear's Big Adventure game!" And I just want to be like, "Dude, Moonbeam Bear just wants to go back to bed. Here, take some juice and go watch Dora the Explorer until Mommy feels human." Of course I don't do that (usually). I make breakfast and start the day. And when Chris emerges to head to work, I try not to glare at him for having gotten to shower by himself.

Alas, I take solace in the fact that someday the boys will be surly teenagers who want to sleep in till noon. Here's hoping.

Talking, reading

We need a Darby update. These things may or may not be new, but I want them written down, so here we go.

The boy can talk! Erika just addressed this, but he gets better and more adventurous in his attempts all the time. Most recently, he's been trying to point out balloons. There's a B sound, followed by some oohing that's clearly broken up into two pieces. I'm trying to teach him "Chicka Chicka Boom Boom," which is going surprisingly well. But the best part of course is that he's mastered "Mama" and "Da," and he will shout it all over the house when he's looking for one of us.

He loves -- LOVES -- reading. He's eager to learn names for things, always pointing at pictures and expecting you to tell him what he's pointing at. And he's expert at the reverse game, in which I ask him where something is, and he points it out. Turns out he really has been paying attention all this time.

But Darby, someday when you read this, this is the part I want you to know about. Likes to read, check. But the important thing is the constant requests for books. If Darby had his way, he'd spend the 50 percent of his day that he doesn't spend eating on making us read to him. Dude. We JUST READ THAT. TWICE. Go play with toys. He shakes his head and squeals in the negative: "Eh!"

And he doesn't ask. He can't, so that would be unreasonable to expect, but still. Don't sit on the floor, because he will see you, and that's his signal to begin. He searches, finds a book, and returns. Then he THROWS it at you from 18 inches away, turns his back, and plops his butt down in your lap, waiting for the show to begin. It is incredibly adorable, but sometimes, when I'm able to take a step back and get over how cute it is and how sweet the request is in my head ("Read to me, Daddy!"), I have to admit to myself: wow, is this kid rude.

Miscellaneous Fun

Recently we enjoyed a visit from the Conners family. Little Paige may be the happiest baby we've ever seen.


Of course we took them to our zoo, where the animals reliably put on a show.

Darby pets the tiger.
There's glass right there, of course, but this kind of image still makes my heart skip a beat.


Casey shows off his cheesiest grin.

We put sand in the sandbox for the first time last week, and the boys have been out on the deck making a joyful mess every day since.



Darby's quite the little communicator these days. He says a few words (ma, da, ball, duck, and inexplicably, owl), but what he doesn't have words for he manages to get across in grunts and gestures. He is constantly demanding through his toddler charades that I build forts out of couch cushions. It makes him so happy, I always give in.


A couple rare family photos.

Happy Easter