Helping us – folding laundry, loading and unloading the dishwasher, picking up toys, singing to Sammy when he’s fussing.
“Helping” us – trying to change Sam’s diaper, “giving G’s feet a shower” by pouring water over them… over the bathroom floor…

“Clare, if you can’t use your fork the right way then I will take it away.”
“No, you can’t reach the fork from there.”

Oh, and Dora has replaced Elmo was the preferred television show around these parts.

For your viewing enjoyment… Sammy the Scooter.  His technique is all brute strength and force and very little finesse, but he gets where he wants to go.

 

Lots going on around here, so I’m a bit behind in photo sharing.  A sneak preview of upcoming blog posts in the photo below… Sammy is pulling himself up now!  I’ll write more later about what the day was like… for now here’s my usual photos and cute story post.

We’ve spent most of the weekend moving beds around for the kid.  Clare is in a “big girl” bed now – a twin size bed!  Pictures coming soon of course.  Sammy will get Clare’s old crib, since it’s a really solid piece of furniture for our little Sam-Sam.  Clare climbs into the crib with him sometimes and they have “wrestlemania” sessions of epic proportions.

A few weeks ago when we were at the beach Clare saw a woman in a bikini and proclaimed “that lady is naked!”  Fortunately the lady didn’t notice that Clare was talking about her, but J and I were still really embarrassed.

The picture above was one that J took when he woke up one morning and walked into the living room. He found some stuffed animals set up on the living room floor having a picnic (complete with food), and the early-morning-chef herself had fallen back asleep in the chair.  J carried her back to bed after taking the pic.

Genetics are a funny things.  Now we have two examples of what happens when you start with one-part J, one-part me, mix and bake for about nine months.  I spent a good part of each day noticing how different the kids are.  Clare is all focused intensity (much like J).  She walks on her toes and loves books (much like me).  She’s very ticklish, like me.  Sam is all mellow contentment (much like… well, neither J or I, but rather our fathers).  He has a “huh huh huh” laugh like J but is really goofy, more like me.  He’s not very ticklish at all, similar to J.  The two of them approach the world so differently already.  Besides that, Clare is tall and thin with long limbs and fingers.  She’s all coordination, balance and finesse.  Sam is a solid, fireplug of a guy who seems to tend more to brute strength and force.

But then there are the similarities.  Every now and then I’m surprised how alike they look.  They also have the same voice and have the same coos and cries.  They are both very, very affectionate.  They both get the same crinkle in their forehead when they are trying to figure something out.  They both wrinkle their noses when they are feeling silly.  They both think their Daddy is the funniest person alive.

But besides how they relate to each other, they are their own individual people.  Clare stands on her own feet as an individual in addition to being Sam’s sister.  Sam is his own little man, though not standing yet, aside from being Clare’s brother.  They are parts of J and I, and the people who came before us, but their unique take on those parts makes them whole.  They are the same as every other person on earth and, yet, the most precious and special people ever to be on the earth.

So last weekend we went to the beach.  I’ve written before about how there are no easy trips with the two kiddos.  Even a day trip involves bags of extra clothes (including extra-extra underwear for C), diapers, wipes, snacks, sippy cups, toys and books for the car, toys for the beach, extra shoes, sunscreen, towels, double-check that we have wipes, “J, did you grab the snacks?” and “No, Clare, we can’t bring your tricycle.”  By the time we finally make it to the car I feel like we’ve accomplished something.

 And then, magically, we do.  While I remember the frustration and tears, it fades away into something vaguely unpleasant.  What is left crystal clear and precious is memories of Sammy working sand through his fingers, Clare throwing rocks in the ocean, shrieks of laughter as cold water runs over our toes, and assigned time to play together as a family.  No laundry, no cooking, no nap schedules – just a family playing together.

 Even when it turns out to be colder and windier than anticipated…

Not the beach – just a few more pictures from our Bend trip with Papa.

 Memories are made at home, of course, while we snuggle in bed, explore the backyard, wrestle, read books, etc.  Memories are made at the grocery store, in the car, on neighborhood walks.  But there’s something special about exploring somewhere new, doing things we can’t do at home, introducing our children to the ocean, climbing mountains, finding snow in July, and freezing cold in August.

Riding the ski lift up Mt. Bachelor

However, in the last day or two Sammy’s figured out the going forward thing with a little more efficiency.  He’s mastered a bit of an army crawl/inchworm maneuver that gets him forward.  Which is good since we had plenty of situations like the one below where he backed himself into a corner and couldn’t get out.

Sammy’s milestones haven’t just been limited to gross motor skills.  He’s been babbling and chattering constantly – Mamama, Dadadada, Blablabla, and now some more complex babbles with mixed consonants.  He’s been responding to his name for a few months now, but I’m pretty sure he understands other things we’re saying (about diaper changes, baths, and, the all important, food) and knows when we’re talking about “Sissy” or Clare, Mama, Daddy, and the dog.

He’s awfully fun these days.  He’s so curious about the world and approaches it with such a joy.  Do all kids have this much joy in the world or just mine?  When I became a parent I didn’t expect to rediscover the world again through my kids eyes, but it’s so rewarding.  Sammy has just really noticed animals and he gets the biggest, goofiest grin on his face when he sees Sadie or birds outside.