Originally uploaded by knights_writes
Yep. That's my daughter, with her brother's underwear (not exactly clean) on her head. Monkey see, monkey do!
Saturday night, cont'd: A to the R to the L to the O, and Gabe-Fed, kickin' it with the Kashi cookies.
Sunday morning: Skipped church. Piers and Adsila brought their parents over for breakfast and playtime, and Sandie and I had a brief kid-free Christmas-shopping outing. Arlo loaned Piers a muscle shirt and a baseball cap to up the cool ante, and they kicked it some more.
Awesome weekend. Great company. Now let the Christmas crazies commence!
This is what happens when you try to "get all the kids together" for a photo.
Last night, Erika's inner circle gathered at the Wedge for a casual celebration in honor of her birthday. I'm pretty sure she turned 30.
We're looking forward to the official "family" birthday bash this coming Saturday night!
As if there weren't enough reasons for me to feel good about the election of Barack Obama as our nation's next president, last night's footage of the huge crowd in Chicago's Grant Park took me back to January, when Arlo pretty much called the election.
Do you remember the Obama ads, run by the campaign in the weeks leading up to the caucuses, that showed Obama greeting and speaking in front of large groups of happy people? I know, from my description, they sound just like all the other campaign ads that were running at that time--from all of the hopeful candidates. But every time one of those Obama ads would come on, Arlo would stop whatever he was doing, focus his attention on the TV, and say, quite matter-of-factly, "I want to go there."
Even though many of the other candidates had similarly-styled ads at the time, it was only the Obama ads that elicited this avid response. In fact, the only other ads that Arlo has EVER paid attention to are the commercials FOR ADVENTURELAND that began airing a couple of months later. (He said the same thing.)
Something about Obama really struck a chord with my four-year-old. Without coaching or prompting from us (Honest!), he rarely failed to correctly point out Obama in the newspaper or on TV in the months since Obama earned the nomination... although, between you and me, I'm pretty sure Arlo thinks his name is "Rocco Bomba."
Last night, watching footage of the Obama crowd in Chicago, long after Arlo had gone to bed (well, sort of--more on that later), I couldn't help but think that he would have wanted to go there, too.
This morning an Actual Rainbow lit up the sky on my drive to work, and it felt to me like a promise, just like in the Old Testament. Today feels like the dawning of a new day for this country, and I truly hope that things will improve for ALL of us in the coming years. Arlo saw it coming--did you?
And now, for her next amaaaaazing feat... MACY WALKS, REALLY FOR REAL THIS TIME!
Imagine my surprise when I looked up from dinner preparations to see my daughter ACTUALLY WALKING toward me, unassisted and uncoaxed. Just walking down the hallway as if she'd been doing it (albeit with a distinct Frankenzombie gait) all her life.
It's official. Macy walks.
Macy took her first steps, unassisted, this weekend--after a lot of practice aided by her walk-behind Pooh. Here's a little video demonstrating her mad (Pooh-assisted) skillz.
The cinematographer (oh yeah, that's me) would also like to apologize to Arlo for being a little testy and impatient with his attempts to get into the shot. Watching it now, several days after the fact, I can see that he was just in need of some attention. My irritation probably came from a dusty old place deep within the subconscious of a second child whose older sister was always hamming it up in the foreground. I'm just sayin.'
An actual moment in last night's televised debate. Purely for comic relief. And just to prove that I am a Fair and Balanced (har) blogger, I'll give a New Pi Co-op vegan cinnamon roll (trust me, it's currency) to anyone who can find an equally funny and unflattering Obama moment from last night's big show.
P.S. I am laughing so hard.
I guess it's a rite of passage, especially (they say) for little boys. Arlo made his first trip to the emergency room on Sunday after losing a fight with the back door at our house. I was coming in from the garage and he was playing behind the door. As I opened the door--ever so slowly and cautiously--he spun around to run down the hall, and ran headlong into the door handle. The result was a small but deepish and rather bloody divot right above his left eye.
We were just about to put the kids down for their naps, so the timing couldn't have been worse. In spite of that--and in spite of the fact that the Mercy ER was busy and we spent TWO HOURS there trying to keep the kiddos entertained and safe--Arlo was a model patient. Yes, he cried when the injury first occurred, and he certainly resisted the hospital trip with the appropriate wailing and thrashing. But once we got there, he was stoic and cooperative, patient and brave. He lay still and silent as they stitched up his forehead--and for her part, Mae was also remarkably agreeable (though squirmy and bored) for a baby who should've been napping instead.
Arlo walked out of there with three stitches and a decidedly boring band-aid. (Shouldn't they keep cool band-aids around the hospital for brave little kids? Come on.)
Knowing Macy's free-wheeling, no-fear attitude, we will surely make a return trip to the ER before she turns four. Because I don't really believe in that "especially for boys" thing I mentioned at the beginning of this post. Between the two of them, Macy is definitely more of a daredevil and a Pusher of Limits. Here's hoping that our future emergencies are as manageable and tolerable as this one turned out to be. Sigh.