Thanksgiving Forecast: Warm

Before the eye-rolling begins, I should say that it's not a matter of gloating, it's just a matter of doing what there is to do. We live in SoCal; what else are you going to do on Thanksgiving morning? It's not like we're about to put on our snow gear and ride to Grandma's in a one-horse open sleigh. Instead we went for a long walk on the beach and then piled into the hot tub (with Grandma) for some relaxation before the big feast. It was Zach's first time in the hot tub and - no big surprise - he had a great time splashing and paddling. (Side note: He continues to be the most buoyant creature I've ever seen. You literally cannot hold him upright in the water - his whole bottom half keeps floating back up.)


More surprising, however, was the fact that he liked the outdoor shower better than the hot tub. (And even more surprising is the fact that I'm letting anyone see a picture of me or Zach in our swim attire - that's a lotta skin! - and that's even before the big feast.) He just thought the water spraying all over us was hilarious. Maybe we should just start hosing him down every time he eats solid food instead of going through countless bibs, napkins, paper towels, shirts, pants, and socks at mealtime.

Speaking of mealtime, we had a great meal yesterday - Dave's family was generous enough to host all of us including my parents. How cool that we all get along. Better than a lot of what else is out there. Luke was a little hung up on the fact that Dave's dad accidentally broke the wishbone. But as we decided, we all would probably wish for the same things, or at least wish that each other got his or her wish. Luke told us that his wish would have been to tour a cookie factory. Let's see...I think I have everything else I could possibly want. I guess I'd wish for that too.

Leader of the Pack

"You know, I'm really in charge of my school," Luke told me the other day.
"I wonder how your teachers feel about that?" I mused.

But underneath, there may be some kernel of truth to it. He's one of the oldest kids in his class because of his late birthday, so he possibly has an advantage in language or maturity. But he doesn't just want to play on the playground, he wants to be the policeman. He doesn't want to hit the ball or catch it during t-ball, he wants to be the umpire. He gets mad when other people cook, because he wants to be the chef (and even went so far as to wear his chef's apron to a restaurant so he could show the cooks last week). And for the past few nights, he has insisted on being the karate teacher: He rounds up me and Dave and Mom and Dad, gets us to stand in a line in the living room, and instructs us on the fine points of various karate moves. Aside from the fact that up until now he has not actually taken any karate (he observed one class at school), his instruction is surprisingly spot-on. (During a warm-up stretching exercise, he says, "OK, now grab the sky. Very good.") I can't make this stuff up.

Who knew that such an extrovert would emerge from a pair of generally introverted parents? Here's a guy who begs us to let him cross the street to say hi to the workers at our neighbors' house. He wants to talk to the men who are fishing at the end of the pier. And the other day when we were taking what was apparently a too-long Sunday drive, he saw some people standing outside a random house and he pleaded, "Can we stop the car and say hi to those people?"


What's noteworthy about Zach this week is his improved sleeping, improved eating, and (possibly related) improved mood. We even caught him getting in position to crawl this evening. Oh, and his hair is getting thicker and longer - a good thing - but that means his only "flaw" is becoming more apparent: Two spirals of hair on the back of his head collide, like a pair of Category 5 hurricanes, and send a tuft of hair spouting straight upwards out of his head. I don't see how it can be "cured" except for him to shave it down, grow it long, or use up a lifetime's worth of gel. Welcome to the Cowlick Family, Zach.

Also noteworthy this week is what I like to call Dave's "mid-life-crisis-mobile" - a monster wagon to bring to the beach (though as my dad points out, he's not likely to pick up many 'chicks' with this vehicle; and as Dave points out, he's not really having any kind of a crisis). He's been wanting one of these wagons with super-fat tires that can handle the sand, and we finally found one (again, yay Craigslist) that didn't cost an arm and a leg. Bring on the ice chests, the umbrellas, the sand toys, and pile on the kids. We're going to the beach!

Donut Heaven

Mom (who is visiting now) has a friend whose mother lived an active, happy life until the age of 100. Her family threw her a grand 100th birthday party with everyone she knew. After the party, she told her son, "I've had a full life, I've been as happy as I could possibly be, and now I'm finished." Two weeks later, she stopped eating and died shortly thereafter.

Why this strange little end-of-life story, you ask? Because I had this feeling tonight that I don't want things to end, but if it all did end right now for some reason, I'd have to say we closed things out in grand style. Tonight Mom and Dad and Luke and Zach and I walked to the downtown merchants' open house and we saw reindeer, ate cupcakes, decorated our own gingerbread cookies, listened to Dixieland music, and finally caught up with Dave at the donut deep-frying machine. Then with bellies full we strolled home by way of the ocean with the moonlight reflecting on the water. How could things possibly get better? I mean, there were people handing out freshly deep-fried donuts -- that's the kind of thing that only seems to happen in fantasies of the heavenly beyond.

Here's a pic of Mom and Dad and Luke and Zach from tonight. It's actually not such a good picture, so I converted it to sepia to give it a little more gravitas (ha, ha).

Every time Mom and Dad are here we try to convince them to move out here permanently. I don't think that'll happen for real, but we have managed to convince them to stay for some long chunks of time, and today the weather was certainly doing its part to persuade (impossibly clear blue sky, sunshine, mid-70s).

Even though Luke hasn't seen them for a while, there's never an awkward getting-to-know-you-again gap. The first night they were here, Luke was perfectly comfortable snuggled up in Papa's lap, discussing sewage treatment. Two peas in a pod.


Zach, on the other hand, is going to have a little bit of catching up to do. Fortunately, we seem to have gotten past his little I'm-just-not-that-into-sleep hurdle of the past two weeks and we're all getting a little more rest. Now he can just be his gurgly old self and charm his way into their hearts. Someone actually stopped us on the street tonight to tell us that Zach was the cutest baby she had ever seen. "Thanks so much," I said; but what I wanted to say was, "I know - and have you seen my three-year-old?"

The Aftermath

OK, so Halloween is over, but we never actually got any trick-or-treaters at our house, and Luke collected about 20 pounds of candy, so we practically have candy spilling out of the windows. We're using candy for bookends. Candy has replaced doorstops. We have candy as paperweights in the office. What's for breakfast? Candy. No wonder candy doesn't work as a kiddie incentive anymore. We might as well treat it as a punishment: Be quiet and eat your Tootsie Roll. If you talk back one more time, you're going to have to finish off all of the Now-and-Laters!

Yes, it's going to be the fourth or fifth (I've lost count) blog entry devoted to Halloween. Part of me can't resist posting additional pictures of Luke as a policeman or Zach as a snail because they were just so hilariously cute. Here's a shot of our whole motley trick-or-treating crew, with Bruce as Linguini and Eitan and Daniel as two clowns.

Trick-or-treating on the walk streets is quite a scene. It's completely mobbed, for one thing, and a total party scene (including a roving party wagon with drinks for grownups). But Luke and Eitan were extremely excited by the whole affair and were super-proud to march up to each house by themselves while we waited with the other parents on the walkways. When one guy handed candy to Luke, he said, "Are you LAPD?" and Luke said, "No, I'm a policeman."


There was a surprising amount of pirate pageantry: One house was completely decked out as a pirate ship, complete with masts and sails rising up three stories and a guy shooting off a "cannon" in the front. And just as we thought we were in somewhat of a normal frame of mind, a massive pirate ship just happened to drive by us (see pic). I still don't know how it was powered.


Then there's Zach. Good old Zach. I always feel like I need to put a footnote at the end to mark his separate activities. Zach slept in Dave's arms through most of the trick-or-treating (just wait until next year) so there isn't much more to say in the Zach/Halloween category. But at home, he's more active than ever, sitting entirely on his own and babbling up a storm. Here he is in his super-cute new bear shirt from Grandma Joan.

Another currently great thing about Zach is his belly laugh. I mean, if you have a belly like his, you must have a pretty decent laugh coming out of there, right? Yesterday when I took Luke and Zach to the big kids' school I was showing Luke how to do hopscotch and this somewhat unexpectedly caused Zach to crack up (me hopping on one foot, that is). And when Dave and Luke were playing catch with a little ball inside the house, Zach thought it was the funniest thing in the world to watch them throw the ball back and forth. His laugh has evolved too - In the beginning, it was just "Huh-whah! Huh-whah!" but now it's a real giggly chuckle. Anyone need their spirits lifted? Feel free to come over to our house to hop on one foot or throw a ball around - you'll feel like the most entertaining person in the world. Oh, and we'll give you some candy too.