Irresistible

Don't let this adorable mug fool you. Behind this smiling baby face is a man of steel. You don't believe me? Just try to stand between Zach's astonishing strength and any of the five to ten things in the house that he just can't resist:

*The red plastic lid to the raisin container in the pantry ("must...reach...grab...chew!")

*The cabinet doors in the kitchen (open, close, open, close, open, close, repeat x500)

*The red squishy ball

*Any bagel or large bread product

*The bathtub or any enclosed body of water

*His light-up piano

*Me

He is at 23 pounds as of yesterday, and he's ready to move mountains. Who knew we had such a mighty man in our presence? And more importantly, what are we going to do when he starts wanting the same things as Luke?

Arrrrrrrrr

So we didn't get the laundry or the grocery shopping done but at least we fulfilled our cannon needs this weekend.

The cannons were on a tall ship that docked nearby, and apparently even though it looks like a pirate ship, it's a big faux pas to call it that. I got that message as soon as we stepped on the ship, saw the crew member in full 19th century sailing gear, and said (cheerfully, idiotically) to Luke, "Say hi to the pirate!"

"We're not pirates. Pirates steal things," the sailor responded crisply.

OK, whatever, sorry about that. But Luke and I still couldn't stop calling it a pirate ship and saying "Arrrrrrr!".

Then when we were getting a little cannon tutorial from the otherwise very patient Brad Pitt lookalike sailor (below), he finally stopped Luke in mock exasperation and said, "It's a schooner, not a pirate ship. Say schooner with me. Schooner."

I guess if I were a regular sailor I'd get tired of being called a pirate too. But as someone pointed out to us later, these were some of the guys who trained the cast and crew of "Pirates of the Carribean." Seems that if there's fame and fortune involved you can call them anything you like.

Either way, Luke didn't seem to care too much about the terminology because he was focused, laser-like, on the cannon. "Where's the cannonball?" he demanded. "Where's the fuse? Can we set it off now?"



Here's a pic of Zach, just because he deserves a few extra props here and there. He's struggling with yet another cold and yet he still finds life entertaining and amusing. This morning he woke up so early the two of us went outside to get the paper just as the guy was delivering it. Here's hoping that a good afternoon out on the sea cleared his head a little. Arrrrr.

Run ragged

A few weeks ago Dave signed us up as a family to run a local 5K today, and it seemed like a good idea, until a painful, sleepless night last night completely threw me off and nearly soured me on the whole experience. But once I got up, I realized, sleep or no sleep, I didn't want to miss out on all the fun.

In fact, Luke has been excited about this for weeks, and the excitement peaked yesterday when we all (even Zach) got our race numbers, timing chips, and t-shirts.

So at 7:15, dressed and breakfasted, we trudged down to the race, met up with our friends Teresa and Scott who lent us their double jogging stroller, and set off at the slowest possible clip. Luke alternated between running for a few hundred yards and then going back to the stroller; Zach alternated between sleeping and looking mildly annoyed. Oh, and we have to deduct at least five minutes from our time to account for the moments spent watching the pre-teen garage band at the two-mile mark. But there was a great race breakfast afterwards and Zach got to gnaw on a delicious chewy bagel, so we were all good.

Then Teresa and Scott invited us to stop by for a visit. At first we demurred; Zach was overdue for a real nap and we were all sweaty. But then Luke piped up, "Sure! I love going to people's houses!" and there we were. We must have looked like the teetotaler who says "Oh, I couldn't possibly have a drink," and then is swinging from the chandeliers by the end of the party. Because an hour after we said that we really couldn't stay, there we were, with the kids all busy in the play area, and me and Dave standing in the living room, electric guitars slung over our shoulders, battling it out over "Heart Shaped Box" on Guitar Hero. Total nerds, each and every one of us.

It's funny that Teresa said the same thing to me that another friend of mine had said a few weeks ago: When you have a child, the days go by slowly but the years go by fast. Apropos of the fact that Zach is ten months old today, I love hearing that little nugget of wisdom but it doesn't really ring true for me just yet. Yes, the days go by slowly, but this year seems like an eternity. Christmas is practically ancient history to me at this point, when in fact it was only, what, eight weeks ago? So Teresa added a helpful corollary: Maybe it doesn't apply to the first year because you're awake for so much of it. Now that I can see. Remind me of this again when the kids are 7, 10, 14, and so on. I'm sure it will just be flying by.

"Gonna be your man in motion..."

"...all I need is a pair of wheels..." Anyone remember that song from the little-known movie "St. Enzo's Fire"?

I kid, I kid. But I have had to lock the child safety gate to keep our man in motion from motioning himself right down the stairs. He can now sit up from a lying down position and he can do the army crawl to get from point A (anywhere he is) to point B (wherever I am). The disconcerting thing is, he's almost always crying/whining while doing it. I guess it takes a lot of effort to move that large midsection of his with those little arms and legs. But all told, he really has nothing to complain about. How lucky is a guy whose mom stays home with him and takes him to the beach? (See photo evidence above)

Luke has had a bad cough,which is alternately disturbing and fascinating to him. He woke up at 3:15 am the other night and I had to hold him on my lap in a steam-filled bathroom for a while to get the coughing to subside. But as soon as he got his bearings, he leaped up to go back to his room to get his pop-up anatomy book so we could look at pictures of lungs and constricted bronchial tubes filled with mucus. Yes, this is at three in the morning.

The next morning I had one of those traveling medics come over to do a blood test for me, and Luke wanted desperately to tell her about his illness. "Doctor, I have a cough..." he began. "Well, let me show you." He ran off to get the anatomy book and opened it to the lung page. "See - here's where the mucus is going to carry the germs out of my lung." I don't know what she was thinking but it was probably her only anatomy lesson from a 4-year-old that day.

This afternoon we're off to look at a tall ship that is docking nearby. I don't care much about the ship itself, and neither does Luke, probably, but it has a cannon and I know that is going to rock his world. Lucky, lucky boys.

Built for Speed

"Let's take it easy this weekend," we said; instead we wound up running the kids and ourselves ragged with activities.

When our good friends from inland came for a visit, of course we had to take them down to the beach in the Monster Wagon. And after we had completely coated ourselves in a day's worth of sand and they finally went home, of course we had to go out to dinner at Eitan's house for some good old-fashioned rough-housing. Those two activities alone would have constituted a good, full weekend.

Then today Dave got the idea in his head that we should ride a boat. So we went down to the big pier and were faced with a choice: Tame glass-bottom boat ride or shooting bullet speedboat ride? Dave noted that the glass-bottom boat ride was more expensive. The speedboat, we learned, was $15 for adults and only $1 for infants, with "infants" being defined as "children under six." For some reason Dave thought that this meant it was a great bargain; I thought it meant that not that many people take their small children on the speedboat.

But Dave insisted and I gave in. "If this turns out badly, I will never trust your judgment on any maritime matters again," I declared as we clambered onto the boat.

Three minutes into the 30-minute boat ride I regretted my decision. I'm not a newlywed with just my siblings and their spouses (all consenting adults) on board (Marine Misadventure, April 1999). I'm a mother and I'm supposed to be making the decisions that protect our children. What was I thinking?

Dave had originally assumed that Zach and I would stay in the back for a smoother ride while he and Luke went up front for the bumps. Instead (note the look of forced enthusiasm/terror on Luke's face) we all wound up clustered together in the back of the boat with Zach wrapped tightly in Dave's arms and Luke clinging to me and saying, "I think I want to go home now."

But at some point between the whipping wind and the amazing sights (seals napping together atop a buoy; a spectacularly clear view from the coastline to the snow-capped mountains), something unusual and completely unexpected happened: Both boys fell asleep. Seriously, that doesn't even happen in the car, let alone back at home in their own beds. They stayed that way, sleeping in our respective laps, until the boat finally rumbled back in to the dock. Then we all had a good laugh and went out for ice cream (or table-climbing, from Zach's point of view).


Now this is not to say that I would do it again. But the words of the captain as we left the ship stayed with me: "For those of you who do not live in California, it is the days like these that show you the reason why the rest of us do."

These Are Days

Never let it be said that we've lived life standing still. We've been at the beach, at birthday parties, at farmers' markets, at the Dan Zanes concert, at the pool, at the movies, at Grandma's, and in the snow - literally - for "snow day" at Luke's school.

Zach had his nine-month appointment and he "passed" with flying colors. We also learned a possible explanation for his erratic sleep habits: yet another sinus infection. Back on antibiotics you go, young man.

It has been so interesting to watch Zach reaching a new level of awareness. He turns his head around when you call his name, and he lights up when Luke walks in the room. Yesterday afternoon he was moping around, acting all whiny, until we picked Luke up from school and suddenly Zach couldn't contain his enthusiasm with his loud, cheery, "Dap dap dap dap dap dap dap!" And again, last night when Dave was playing ball with the boys, Luke had Zach laughing so hard I thought Zach was going to lose his dinner.

Speaking of dinner, it's quite an experience to watch Zach eat rice and beans. Think Cookie Monster demolishing a cookie when the crumbs go flying - except it's real life, it's real rice, and you really have to clean up afterwards.

Luke, on the other hand, has been entertaining us with magic tricks ever since he spent time with Fred at Christmas. He'll put a coin in one fist and hold both fists out and (for no apparent reason) say, "Blow on this hand!" Then he'll ask you to guess which hand the coin is in. If you guess the wrong hand, he'll open his empty hand triumphantly and say, "Nope!" But if you guess the right hand, he'll either tell you to guess the other hand, or (my personal favorite) he'll put both hands behind his back and you'll hear a "clink" as he drops the coin on the floor and comes back with his empty palm open.

Last Friday I needed some special Luke time, so Luke and I went swimming at the gym while Zach stayed in the babysitting room. Luke had such a good time he's been talking about it all week. Lucky for us, this Friday Dave worked at home, so at the end of the work-day we all packed up and headed over to the pool. Imagine not one but two big-eyed, light-haired, round-faced cutie pies shrieking in delight and cracking each other up as they bob up and down in the water. Another wild Friday night - just the way we've always wanted it.