In full bloom

I've figured out why Rebecca and I get along so well. Hanging out with us requires a sense of adventure, a sense of humor, and that sixth mommy-sense that tells you when one of your kids is about to jump off of something dangerous. Being a glutton for punishment doesn't hurt, either.

In light of the fact that we have all this in common, it should come as no surprise that we planned a spur-of-the-moment trip downtown to experience the D.C. Cherry Blossom Festival. (And I use the term "planned" lightly.) For some, dragging four kids ages two-and-under on the Metro and into the city without back-up might require more advance notice. For us, a few hours will do.

And so it was that we found ourselves in our nation's capital on this most glorious of days. We enjoyed playing on the National Mall in the sunshine, eating a picnic lunch of hot dogs and fruit by the Tidal Basin, and playing with Rebecca's fancy new camera, which we have to thank for all the great pictures of the kids.

You can enjoy more of those great shots by clicking here.

Birthday sharks

Birthdays are a really big deal. And on your special day, in this family, you get to have things your way.

Until you turn 28 with a 2-year-old at the table.

Obviously I'm doing something right, as evidenced by Abby's excitement level in the month leading up to my birthday. I told her that she would have to help Daddy get ready for my birthday, just like she helped Mommy get ready for his last month.

So over the past few weeks, she created quite a honey-do list for him regarding things that should be involved in Mommy's birthday, including:

1. birthday sharks
2. chocolate cake
3. birthday sharks
   
4. balloons
5. singing
6. birthday sharks
   
7. presents

Unable to locate gummy sharks, Justin opted for Swedish fish and informed Abby that they were baby sharks as he decorated the cake. Well done, hubby.

And as if all that celebration wasn't enough, Caleb chose today to start walking. Everywhere. What a great present to see my little guy enjoying his new view of the world.

Thanks for a perfect birthday!

Anything you can do...

Caleb's dangerously close to walking, which doubles my work load at the park these days. Something about being outside just makes the boy try a lot harder to use those chunky legs of his to carry him around, and we suspect it is for lack of confidence, not ability, that he's not fully uprightly mobile yet.

In the absence of running and jumping skills, he satisfies his big kid urges by chasing Abby all over the playground equipment and attempting to do every dangerous and foolish thing she does. This includes teetering across the outside edge of the bridge holding onto the railings, soaring headfirst down the slides, and trying to climb this freaky ladder, which we call the pedals.

"Do the pedals, Caweb," Abby yells down from her perch atop the ladder. I can't figure out if she's encouraging or taunting him. "Put your left foot up, then your right. Hold on with both hands so you don't fall and bump your head."

Time to replenish that traveling first aid kit.

Necessity is the mother of invention

No umbrella? No problem.

Humidity is not her best friend, so I helped Curly out as best I could on this drizzly day. She seemed to like her custom Starbucks hat. And by like, I mean wore it around until it disintegrated. Another creative win for Mom!

A few of his favorite things

This mostly sums him up. I snapped this shot today when I realized that my little guy was happily enjoying the sunshine surrounded by a few of the things he loves best, namely:

• Snacks: He can eat his weight in goldfish crackers and most other finger foods. We generally just have to remove the food from his sight when mealtime or snack time is over to keep him from eating until he blows up.
• Trucks: Well, anything with wheels, really. Give the boy a truck, a train, a car or even a pair of roller skates and he turns into such a...boy. He's an all-terrain kid; rugs, feet and big sisters prove no match for his driving skills. He simply pushes whatever vehicle he has right over top of whatever obstacle is in his way, making loud "zoom" noises as he speeds along.
• Chalk: There's a method to his madness. First, he removes all the chalk from the bucket. Then, he rolls most of it down the driveway, sending his sister scurrying after it so it doesn't roll into the road. (I'm not sure which he loves more: watching her run halfway bent over trying to retrieve 10 pieces of chalk at once, or the way she tosses them all into his lap when she returns and reminds him to "Keep them right here, Caweb!") Finally, he returns most of the chalk to its rightful place in the bucket, reserving one or two pieces to scribble with.

Some other things he currently can't live without (not pictured):

• Sharkie: We had no idea what a hit that little stuffed shark would be when we snagged him during our trip to the Georgia Aquarium. How to properly spell his name is still up for debate, but we've no doubt of Caleb's fondness for him. He still calls it "duh-duh" (think the Jaws theme) and even Abby knows better than to take this toy away from her little brother. She'll steal a lot of his stuff, but he's made it pretty clear where he stands on Sharkie. No one gets between my boy and his shark.
• Magna Doodle: A must-have for keeping him entertained in the car. Sadly, my little lefty has learned that he has to turn his upside down in order to use the pen that is connected to the top right corner. I'm now on the hunt for a left-handed magna doodle.
• Daddy: The boy loves his dad. And by loves, I mean adores, esteems, can't live without...you get the picture. Who can settle Caleb down when he can't get to sleep? Daddy. Who does he want when he wakes up in the morning? Daddy. (And I'll admit, it's a little insulting when he tries to peer around me to see if Daddy's coming when I go to get him out of his crib.) Who gets the big smiles and excited toddler-arm-flapping when he comes home at dinner time? Daddy. I'm guess I'm sort of getting used to playing second fiddle.
  

What mess?

What you can't see in this shot is the five-foot-wide area on the floor that is also covered with oatmeal, or the pieces of breakfast flung so violently at the wall that they actually took the paint off. And what you can't know just from looking is that it took me nearly two hours to clean up this morning's breakfast. And that included a bath.

I've always described him as a good eater. I'll likely never describe him as a clean one.

Everything but the leprechaun

We celebrated St. Patty's day with some good friends, some Ballymahoe lamb stew, some Irish soda bread, and some chocolate stout cupcakes.

I let Abby pour the Guinness into the batter, because she likes the bubbles. Don't worry...I didn't let her lick the bowl.

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

Chocolate Stout Cupcakes

from FoodNetwork.com

• 3/4 cup unsweetened cocoa, plus more for dusting finished cupcakes
• 2 cups sugar
• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• Pinch fine salt
• 1 bottle stout beer (recommended: Guinness)
• 1 stick butter, melted
• 1 tablespoon vanilla extract
• 3 large eggs
• 3/4 cup sour cream
• 1 (8-ounce) package cream cheese, softened at room temperature
• 3/4 to 1 cup heavy cream
• 1 (1-pound) box confectioners' sugar

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

In a large mixing bowl, whisk together the cocoa, sugar, flour, baking soda, and salt.

In another medium mixing bowl, combine the stout, melted butter, and vanilla. Beat in eggs, 1 at time. Mix in sour cream until thoroughly combined and smooth. Gradually mix the dry ingredients into the wet mixture.

Lightly grease 24 muffin tins. Divide the batter equally between muffin tins, filling each 3/4 full. Bake for about 12 minutes and then rotate the pans. Bake another 12 to 13 minutes until risen, nicely domed, and set in the middle but still soft and tender. Cool before turning out.

To make the icing:

In a medium bowl with a hand mixer, beat the cream cheese on medium speed until light and fluffy. Gradually beat in the heavy cream. On low speed, slowly mix in the confectioners' sugar until incorporated and smooth. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate until ready to use. Icing can be made several hours ahead and kept covered and chilled.

Top each cupcake with a heap of frosting and dust with cocoa.

Five wheelin'

It was an absolutely perfect evening. Now that it has finally warmed up around here, and since the sun doesn't set until almost 8, we have plenty of time to enjoy the great outdoors with the kids after dinner. The dishes, we learned tonight, can wait until the kids go to sleep, and there's lots of ground to be covered before it gets dark.

Abby's really loving being back on her bike again and happily rode/walked all the way around the neighborhood on it. Caleb, just about a half an inch short of being able to reach the pedals, was content to scoot with his toes or (mostly) to let me push him on the tricycle while he stuck his legs out to the sides and made "zoom!" noises.

The kids hardly know what to do with themselves with all the time we've been spending outside. In addition to all the time we can spend at the park now, I've gotten into the habit of kicking Abby out into the backyard to explore while I get dinner ready (which she loves) and Caleb is experiencing the joys of sidewalk chalk for the very first time.

I love you, warm weather. Please stay.

Strong to the finish

No worries...Justin had a good grip on Spike's legs. When he let go, he didn't fall far.

I'm seeing a whole new side of my boy this week. All this sunshine has awakened some sort of primal male instincts in him. Suddenly he's this daring tough guy who needs to scare the daylights out of his mom by climbing every piece of unsafe-for-children-under-the-age-of-two equipment at the playground, race around until he finds an appropriately sized area of dirt to roll in, fly headfirst down the slides, and put fistfuls of mulch in his mouth.

Brand new worlds of excitement have opened up for Spike with the insertion of Playtime At the Park into our daily routine. Thankfully, he's not walking yet, which at least makes him easier to catch when he darts away. But something about all these wide open spaces makes him want to try a little harder, and he seems to have a great deal more patience for holding my hand and practicing using his legs when we're outside.

The benefit of the great outdoors cannot be overstated. In just a few sunshiney days, I've seen his legs get stronger and his confidence in standing on his own and taking a few steps has grown by leaps and bounds (pun intended).

His disposition has improved. With less time to be bored and more space to explore, his crankiness is beginning to subside and his little brain--which loves to shift between activities more quickly than I can keep up--suddenly has just the right amount of input to keep him satisfied and entertained. Tired of building that mountain of mulch? Try seeing if these sticks will fit through the holes in that bench. Bored with the slides? Try climbing up and down these steps for a while. Need to rest and zone out for a second? Look, birds!

His communication skills are getting better. All this new stuff to look at means lots of new words to learn, and Caleb's determined to master them. He loves to watch dump trucks and other big vehicles as they roll past the neighborhood park, and he's quick to scale the steps to get a better vantage point from which to point and yell, "tuc! tuc!" as they drive by. He's still fascinated by airplanes, and being out in the open (and close to the airport) means getting to see the real thing pretty often. As soon as he hears one he stops what he's doing to locate it in the sky and make his "zoooooom!" noise. And since playing hard means more stops for refueling, he's added "nack," his word for snack, to his vocabulary this week. "Nack, nack, nack!" he'll chant, flapping his arms excitedly until I reward him with some goldfish crackers. I can't tell if he's happier about the food or the fact that he's finally able to get his point across.

Either way, we're plenty thankful for the sunshine around here. Happy Spike = Happy Mom.

Blue skies smiling at me

Just how much fun we can pack into these first few warm days is directly proportional to how long we've been trapped inside. Yesterday we managed to hit two different parks before lunch and squeezed in one more between the time the kids woke up from their naps and dinner. (And with kids who sleep until 4 in the afternoon, this is no easy feat.) Three parks in one day, you ask? Yes...that's how desperate we've gotten.

And by we, I mean the moms who've been stuck inside with these little ones since November. If there is one thing I've learned from this long cold winter, it's that kids need to be outside. They need to run somewhere where there are no walls to stop them. They need to feel the sun on their cheeks and a breeze in their hair. They need to fall down and get filthy. Very, very filthy. They need to toss leaves in the air and watch them fall. They need to chase bugs and shadows. They need to pick flowers. They need to get sticks in their hair and dirt on their shoes.

So today, that's just what we've done.

We headed to the park early, while it was still a little chilly out, but with the promise that it would soon warm up. Abby climbed stairs and ladders, crept through tunnels and tried out every slide to determine which was the fastest and which was the slowest. Caleb, himself a budding daredevil, went right to the highest level of the equipment time and time again and launched himself headfirst down every slide he came across, shimmying to the edge, then pumping his fat little arms ahead of him and pushing off with his feet. Sometimes he pushed so hard that he would fly right off the end of the slide and into the dirt, as evidenced by the pieces of mulch I am still pulling out of his hair.

When their hands were starting to feel a little chilly, we parked ourselves on a bench in the sun and warmed up with some hot chocolate I'd brought along. Abby ran and Caleb held my hand and practiced walking around in a big field of grass nearby. After a short walk to the library to pick out some new books about Olivia, our favorite pig, and George, our favorite monkey, it was time for lunch.

Back home, I fired up the grill and threw on some hot dogs. Caleb rode around on his plastic rocket ship while Abby ran around collecting sticks because, as she explained, "I need all these sticks to make a pile of sticks."

We enjoyed a delicious picnic lunch with the sun beating down on us and now the kids are sleeping soundly. When I put them down, they were the good kind of tired--the kind where your energy is zapped from being in the sun and you simply can't play anymore.

I'll take this over that cranky stuck-inside-all-day kind of tired any day.

Fish are friends, not food

I really didn't want a pet. But it's starting to grow on me.

After noticing how much our kids love watching the fish in the little aquarium at our church, we decided on a whim Sunday evening to get them a pet fish of their own to stare at. Abby could learn the responsibility of having to remember to feed a pet everyday, and both kiddos, we knew, would enjoy watching their own little fish swim around.

We arrived just as PetSmart was preparing to close and rushed through the decision-making process. (This shall be known as Mistake Number One.) Justin directed Abby to the tank of 13-cent goldfish while I scoured the store for a cheap bowl and some fish food. The knowledgeable employee that helped us tried to direct us toward a fish that would be better suited to the small bowl we had chosen, or toward a much larger and more expensive aquarium that would be better suited to the fish we had chosen. We danced around the fact that we wanted a cheap fish and a cheap bowl in case (a) our kids lost interest or (b) the thing died, as goldfish have a tendency to do.

Twelve dollars later, we left the store with two very excited kids and a feisty little goldfish that Abby dubbed "Lucy."

For the next two days our kids hovered around the fishbowl, observing Lucy as she swam, blew bubbles and pooped in her little bowl. On Monday, I asked Abby if she liked her little pet fish.

"She's pretty," Abby replied. "When do we eat her?"

I realized we had a ways to go before Abby understood this was a pet and not a future fish stick. We talked about how God made all the animals, and how God made Lucy, too, and how we had to take good care of her and be good stewards of God's creation. I pointed out that perhaps Lucy would like something to play with and swim around in her bowl, so on Tuesday we headed back to the pet store and purchased a little plastic plant and a miniature piece of the Roman Forum to decorate Lucy's living quarters. That evening we changed Lucy's water, added her new furniture to the bowl and fed her what would turn out to be her last meal.

Wednesday morning we found Lucy belly up in the bowl, a victim of improper care and lodging. Turns out goldfish need room to swim in order to stay strong. If their living arrangements are too small, they get weak and die. Lucy was interred in our downstairs bathroom, and when Abby woke up I explained that Lucy had gone to visit her other friends at the pet store. Lucky for me, all those fish look alike, so I told her we can visit Lucy anytime.

(Yes, I lied to my 2-year-old. This, to me, seemed a better option than bringing her face to face with the harsh reality that her parents can't even keep a little goldfish alive for more than two days. I'm more interested in the long-term lesson of responsibility that can be learned from rearing a fish than the short-term lesson in life and death.)

Today, we made our third trip of the week to PetSmart to purchase a more durable, more expensive Beta fish that has a better chance of survival in our tiny bowl. I let Abby pick it out again, and she explained she wanted an orange one. "Like Lucy," she said.

We picked out a fairly active orange Beta and some new fish food and made our way to the check out. Caleb insisted on tapping the little cup the fish was in over and over, which Betas apparently do not enjoy. We swung by the goldfish tanks so Abby could say goodbye to whichever fish she thought had been hers.

"Lucy's happy with all her new friends," she told me, obviously pleased that her old fish now had some playmates.

As we headed to the car, I asked Abby what she wanted to name this new fish.

"Lucy," she replied.

Here's hoping Lucy 2.0 fares better than her predecessor.