Ambition to Reach New Heights

He can't walk or crawl.  He is just learning to sit up without tipping.  He can only roll.  Somehow, he maneuvered 12 or so feet across the living room to the bottom of the stairs, then tried to roll up on to the bottom step.  Time to fetch the gate from the attic.

(Notice that cute little bald spot on the back of his head.  A rolling stone gathers no moss...ha, ha.)

"Hey now, you're an Allstar..."

After a busy Sunday, I'm sitting here on the sofa watching the girls groove to Just Dance Wii. Despite the cheesy tunes, this game has proved to be a means of keeping sanity during this winter. Even Ruby gets in on the action. I've busted a couple of moves myself only to feel that aerobics class paranoia set in..you know, when you realize you are the only one who can't keep the beat? Jack stands in his play gym and throws his arms in the air doing his best to participate.

Funny conversations arise from some of the songs. Percy-Kate asked me why only young men were welcome at the YMCA. (Trish, tell Cary I'll have Percy-Kate give him a call for the long version of that answer :) Even funnier, Ruby walks around singing "..won't you take me to Monkeytown..." (instead of Funkytown.) The love songs have given me ample opportunity to deprogram our culture's concepts about love and attraction. The girls just sing along and have no idea what they're singing. I am fine with that, mind you. But occasionally, Percy-Kate gets a little too starry eyed as she sings along. Being the pragmatist I am, I keep it real for her. Dear Lord, what will the teenage years be like for us all? Is is too late to convert our family to Anabaptists?

Then I think about the songs I grew up listening to. Was it ever okay that as a child I knew all the words to "Family Tradition" by Hank Jr.?




Or how about "I'd Love to Lay You Down" by Conway?





The answer is no, it was not okay. I wasn't too warped by it all, though. Although, it could explain why I guard my babies' ears so carefully.

The Winter of My Discontent

Let me just say it for at least the hundredth time this week....I am done with winter. I'm done with wearing layers, wearing socks, shivering in the shower, slipping on the ice in the drive, paying $700 to fill the oil tank, painful cracked skin on my knuckles, icy puddles in my kitchen, and lame weather forecasting. The only redeeming things about this season is the abundance of soup and hot coffee.

Nonetheless, I always survive it. Spring always comes. The snow eventually melts. I finally get to wear my flip-flops again.

Here are some pictures of life as we know it for those who live in greener climates.

The Boy in the House

We've been a house of girls for nine years now. People keep telling me boys are very different. Nature or nurture...I secretly ponder. So, here's my Jack at eight months. I have to admit there are a couple of things about him that are very un-girly.





First of all, his appetite. For crying out loud! Ruby could hold her own with a bottle, mind you, but she has nothing on Jack. Currently, he has three squares a day (squares being cereal and a fruit or veggie..or pizza, etc.) and a bottle every few hours. Pretty much since birth he has eaten every two to three hours unless he is sleeping.



Secondly, his play is very different than the girls. Instead of playing inside his little activity gym, he likes to lie under it and inspect the chassis. He is able to roll across the living room floor and get himself positioned under it as you see in the picture. My dad serviced cars for a living, so this warms my heart on some level to see him following an instinct passed down from his grandfather.

I'm sure in the next few months more boy-behaviors will surface. I look forward to some variety after so many years of pink.