Precious moments

There are only a few things in his life that Caleb will drop everything for. Food is one. So is his Sharkie. But he also finds time alone with his Daddy and choo-choo trains pretty irresistible. So when those two things combine in the form of story time with Dad while big sister is still napping, you've got a recipe for a picture perfect moment.

I scored this awesome original Thomas the Tank Engine book at our library's used book sale a few months back. It's turned out to be quite a treasure, as the stories and illustrations are fabulous compared to the Thomas books that are printed for kids nowadays. It also fits in nicely with our improved twaddle-free kids library. Since starting preschool with Abby last week (which involved more than doubling the number of books we used to read on some days), I've already noticed an improvement in Caleb's tolerance for "meatier" and less flashy kids' books.

In other news, Caleb made the switch a few weeks ago at the beach from saying "Dada" to "Daddy," and it melts my heart to hear him squeal "Dad-deeeee!" at the top of his lungs any time Justin walks into the room. "Mama" was the next to go, and I'm thrilled to officially be "Mommy" to both my kids now. (It might have something to do with the fact that your face easily turns into a smile when you say a word ends in a "Y" sound. And this kid's got a smile that can light up a room.)

When he's not playing with trains and trucks or following Daddy around the house, Caleb's busy talking up a storm these days. Under his sister's tutelage (read: incessant chatting), his vocabulary is increasing by leaps and bounds, and he's even started forming some basic sentences. ("More milk, please" sounds more like "Muh mick peas." But you get the idea.)

Next on Caleb's agenda: unlearning the awful habits I've let him get into with holding his forks and crayons incorrectly, and teaching this cute little lefty how to hold a utensil the right way. I'm hoping maybe if he could hold onto a fork or spoon properly there might be less careless food slinging in our future. A girl can dream, can't she?