So it's already May, the boys are out of school and it is already so hot that I am suffering in the house and if I wasn't so stubborn I would put on the AC. We have had a good spring, went to Panama with the Lavelle family for my mom's 65th birthday. I didn't expect much, you don't hear of people going to Panama often, but 8it's always those times when you have the most fun. But it was a really funky place that was very calm and beautiful. Lots of water taxis, oversize star fish and slow food service, just the sort of thing you need on vacation.
Joel's parents came for 2 weeks to visit. That was nice too, it's always fun to have something different going on and the kid-kadoos get very excited to run downstairs and wake them up in the morning.
I cut Oliver's hair. It was really long and in a mullet style. I really don't know why I find it hard to do that first haircut. He was 26 months when I sat him outside with a Popsicle and chopped his locks off with some kitchen scissors (it looks surprisingly good all thing considered). Sam still likes to wear dress up clothes most of the time although it seems like we've moved on from Peter Pan to Robin Hood, they wear the same thing though except one has a belt. Sam is desperate to take upright bass lessons. It's sort of the dilemma of the moment. I have found a teacher and an instrument (they don't make mini double basses, I guess there is not a lot of demand for them) that I would have to go and get in Maryland. The thing is, he's 4 - how much can he practice with this instrument and can he take care of it? He has been unwavering on his wanting to play the bass. He will take Joel's guitar, which is full size, stand it upright and grab a chopstick from the drawer and pretend that he is using tat a s a bow and play the bass. We shall see what becomes of this, it is sort of a commitment since you have to rent the instrument and everything, we're trying to work it out. I really admire his creativity though.
Oliver is speaking a lot, you sort have to be around him all the time to understand what he's saying. So far his clearest sentence has been, "No, Mammy (Sam) is shoo shoo head!" It's about time he started sticking up for himself. I suppose you can only be called a shoo shoo head so much before you lose it.

The wee one

The original purpose of this blog was to compensate for the fact that I am not a good historian. I am hopeless at journals, not the best at photo albums and realistically will not get a baby book done. So, this blog was going to be the answer to all of those woes. I was going to catalog and write down in painful detail all of the wonderful things that are going on in our little house. All of those precious memories would be saved on the internet for generations to come and my great-great-great grandchild, who is curious about ancestors, will see how funny and cool we were. Great idea right? The catch is...that doesn't really happen too much. Not that wonderful things don't go on, they do, they just don't always make it in the blog. It was predictable really, but at least it got started even if it is sporadic.

So, It's been a while and I haven't ever written much about Oliver. The poor number 2, it's true they really don't get all the fanfare as the first. So, he deserves a post all his own. Oliver doesn't look a thing like Sam. He'll be 2 in a few weeks and he's just now starting to talk and he is hysterical. When you first meet him you think he's a bit of a bruiser, maybe even a thug, but he's a softie. He screams really easily when he doesn't get his way. If he doesn't want to come with you he will just sit down wherever he is, if that isn't efective enough he'll lay down , ANYWHERE! Occassionally, if he's in a particular mood he will just walk slowly backwards until he bumps into something and then he will start the sit down/lay down routine. Through all of this you start to see that he is exraordinarily kind.

When Joel leaves for work there is some ritual that goes on, he goes over and kisses Oliver on the head and says "See you later alligator" to Sam, who say, "after a while crocodile", and then he says, "hope it's soon baboon" and then he leaves. If any of that ritual doesn't happen 1 or both of them is devastated. We have had to do the the hwol Alligator, crocodile, baboon schpeel screaming over the yard. Anyway, the other day Oliver got down from the table screaming and ran to the door with his poor little hand on his head just screaming and I couldn't figure out what it was, but I guess Joel had just said goodbye and didn't kiss him on the head. So, Joel came all the way back in, kissed him and then Ollie just turned around and went and sat back down to eat his breakfast as though nothing had happened.

Yesterday morning Oliver woke up and Sam was still asleep and Oliver found one of Sam's many mimis (blankies) in his room, so he went over to Sam's room opened the door, put the mimi in Sam's bed and came out and shut the door again. This morning we went downstairs and got the milks so Oliver started walking up the stairs with both of the cups and Joel said that he had to stay downstairs with the milk it'll get spilled and reached for them. Oliver went hysterical and started screaming and crying so hard, we really couldn't figure it out, it was pretty over the top, even for Ollie. Anyway, so then I asked him if he was bringing the milk to Sam and he said, "yes". It was so sweet of course we let him take the milk upstairs. I couldn't believe he got so upset, he's been told not to bring milk upstairs heaps of times (obviously no that consistently or he wouldn't be trying it again but..)

He is very in love with animals and is always looking for Lucy and he tries to show her pictures in books and feed her apples and carrots. These are just a few of the things that are in my head for the moment and best to put them in the blog where they belong since my head can't hold much these days. Now they are safe for the generations to come.

Growing Up

Oliver will be 2 next month and Sam writes his name (Mom,Dad, cat, red, dog and pan . Lucy is 12 now and she has diabetes and I think she's heading downhill. My grandfather has passed away recently and wrinkles are popping out everywhere. As much as my mind always seems to tell me that I am in my mid 20s, all the signs seem to say we are all growing up. Sam, who loves and wants to be Peter Pan, says that he doesn't want to grow up. He says he will turn 5, but it's not growing up it's getting bigger. Our 92 year old neighbor Kitty says that growing older is not for the fainthearted and that's a good way to put it. She is remarkable. She's happy, positive and very with it. She likes to talk politics, the economic crisis and she watches The Office.

Don't get me wrong, I don't think that just because I am 34 and my kids are growing up makes me past my prime, it might just mean I'm no spring chicken. I'm OK with that. We are all lucky to get to grow older. I would hate to be a "fights it every step of the way" person. Winter is over and the weather is warmer and I guess you always notice the time passing when the seasons change.