Isaac was having too much fun to mind me at lunchtime yesterday. Perhaps I should have tried using reverse psychology?
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Monday, September 20, 2010
When push comes to hug
Jude has always struggled with personal space issues, complaining the minute that he thinks his siblings are infringing on his territory. (Being on the bottom of the heap in the womb will do that to you, I guess.) I think the girls must be starting to notice the way he pushes them away because lately it seems that they have been on a mission to cure him of this particular idiosyncrasy. Their efforts to win him over started with the occasional kiss:
And then progressed to hugs:
And now they even try to double team him with affection:
The fact that he seems to be enjoying (and even reciprocating) this attention from the girls gives me hope that someday I will be able to orchestrate group pictures of the Fab Four without Jude giving me this look every. single. time:
Typical stink face
And then progressed to hugs:
And now they even try to double team him with affection:
The fact that he seems to be enjoying (and even reciprocating) this attention from the girls gives me hope that someday I will be able to orchestrate group pictures of the Fab Four without Jude giving me this look every. single. time:
Typical stink faceSunday, September 19, 2010
Friday, September 17, 2010
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Don't go!
For quite a while now, the Fab Four have been exhibiting varying degrees of separation anxiety when either Ted or I leave the house (or sometimes even the room, Isaac). Seeing their tears and hearing their cries can be distressing, but I admit that it's also terribly flattering—it's good to know that they like us!
Recently, the kids have started fussing when visitors leave, too. Jude, especially, hates for any source of entertainment to go bye-bye. In fact, the other day he was so reluctant to see Tía Glenda leave that he repeatedly hugged her legs and demanded, "Don't go!" (okay, so he can't really talk much yet, but that's what we like to think he was saying!). I managed to capture a snippet of the sweetness on video:
Recently, the kids have started fussing when visitors leave, too. Jude, especially, hates for any source of entertainment to go bye-bye. In fact, the other day he was so reluctant to see Tía Glenda leave that he repeatedly hugged her legs and demanded, "Don't go!" (okay, so he can't really talk much yet, but that's what we like to think he was saying!). I managed to capture a snippet of the sweetness on video:
Saturday, September 11, 2010
9/11
There were no moments of silence in our house this morning (impossible with four toddlers), but I still remembered. All day I've remembered. And while I was remembering, I realized that—although I still feel sick to my stomach when I think of what happened 9 years ago today—my memories themselves are fading. So I'm recording what I remember about that day here, mostly for my kids but also for myself. I don't want to forget.
TUESDAY
On September 11, 2001, Ted and I had been married just over a year. He had to be at work much earlier than I did, so by the time I got out of bed that morning, he was already gone. I took a quick shower, and then I turned on the bedroom television to listen to the news while I got ready.
FLIGHT 11
I was fixing my hair in the bathroom when I heard the local anchor announce breaking news. I stepped into the bedroom to look at the footage; the anchor reported that a small plane had accidentally crashed into one of the Twin Towers. Not alarmed, I returned to the bathroom to finish getting ready.
FLIGHT 175
About a quarter of an hour later, I was in the kitchen, packing my lunch and watching the Today Show. The show's cameras were trained on the smoking tower while Katie Couric and Matt Lauer speculated as to the cause of the crash. Then the unthinkable happened: A jet flew into the other tower as we all watched. I had recently heard of Osama bin Laden, and I knew instantly that he was behind this act of terror. I called my dad, crying, and asked, "How could human beings do this to each other?"
FLIGHT 77
When I calmed down, I got in my car and left for work. The skies were crisp and blue, and I marveled that they could have harbored anything so sinister in New York City. Then I turned on the radio and tuned it to NPR, just in time to hear them report that a plane had flown into the Pentagon. The government was under attack, they said, and authorities feared that another plane was possibly headed toward the Capitol. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. When I got to work, I walked across the parking lot and cowered as a small plane flew low overhead to land at a nearby metropolitan airport. It felt like no one was safe.
FLIGHT 93
At my desk, I tried to check the news sites for more information, but the internet had crashed from so many people wanting to know what was going on. I soon learned that a woman in a nearby office had a television, so I gathered there with a few other people to watch the coverage. When we learned that a plane had gone down over Pennsylvania, a woman in our group said, "There was a hero on that flight." I had no idea what she meant by that at the time, but she was completely right.
GROUND ZERO & THE AFTERMATH
As we watched the shots of the two smoking towers, one suddenly began to cave in. We were stunned—it hadn't occurred to any of us that this was even a possibility. A half-hour later, we watched the other tower crumble to the ground in slow motion. I didn't realize the real horror of it until later, when I found out that the people in the buildings had not been evacuated.
Because I could not concentrate at my desk, I took some work home and spread it out in front of the television. I worked there all day and all evening, glued to the coverage and slowly realizing the magnitude of what had happened that morning. Over the next several days, I could not tear myself away from the television. I needed to see the destruction, to watch the rescue efforts, to hear the survivors' stories, and to learn the names of the people who were missing and of all of the souls who had been lost. I cried and cried and cried, and Ted begged me to stop watching. But I couldn't ...
Every American who was alive on September 11, 2001, has a story to tell about the day our world changed. And if they're anything like me, mere words cannot express the horror and the grief that we felt as we watched the terrible events unfold. May we never forget.
TUESDAY
On September 11, 2001, Ted and I had been married just over a year. He had to be at work much earlier than I did, so by the time I got out of bed that morning, he was already gone. I took a quick shower, and then I turned on the bedroom television to listen to the news while I got ready.
FLIGHT 11
I was fixing my hair in the bathroom when I heard the local anchor announce breaking news. I stepped into the bedroom to look at the footage; the anchor reported that a small plane had accidentally crashed into one of the Twin Towers. Not alarmed, I returned to the bathroom to finish getting ready.
FLIGHT 175
About a quarter of an hour later, I was in the kitchen, packing my lunch and watching the Today Show. The show's cameras were trained on the smoking tower while Katie Couric and Matt Lauer speculated as to the cause of the crash. Then the unthinkable happened: A jet flew into the other tower as we all watched. I had recently heard of Osama bin Laden, and I knew instantly that he was behind this act of terror. I called my dad, crying, and asked, "How could human beings do this to each other?"
FLIGHT 77
When I calmed down, I got in my car and left for work. The skies were crisp and blue, and I marveled that they could have harbored anything so sinister in New York City. Then I turned on the radio and tuned it to NPR, just in time to hear them report that a plane had flown into the Pentagon. The government was under attack, they said, and authorities feared that another plane was possibly headed toward the Capitol. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. When I got to work, I walked across the parking lot and cowered as a small plane flew low overhead to land at a nearby metropolitan airport. It felt like no one was safe.
FLIGHT 93
At my desk, I tried to check the news sites for more information, but the internet had crashed from so many people wanting to know what was going on. I soon learned that a woman in a nearby office had a television, so I gathered there with a few other people to watch the coverage. When we learned that a plane had gone down over Pennsylvania, a woman in our group said, "There was a hero on that flight." I had no idea what she meant by that at the time, but she was completely right.
GROUND ZERO & THE AFTERMATH
As we watched the shots of the two smoking towers, one suddenly began to cave in. We were stunned—it hadn't occurred to any of us that this was even a possibility. A half-hour later, we watched the other tower crumble to the ground in slow motion. I didn't realize the real horror of it until later, when I found out that the people in the buildings had not been evacuated.
Because I could not concentrate at my desk, I took some work home and spread it out in front of the television. I worked there all day and all evening, glued to the coverage and slowly realizing the magnitude of what had happened that morning. Over the next several days, I could not tear myself away from the television. I needed to see the destruction, to watch the rescue efforts, to hear the survivors' stories, and to learn the names of the people who were missing and of all of the souls who had been lost. I cried and cried and cried, and Ted begged me to stop watching. But I couldn't ...
Every American who was alive on September 11, 2001, has a story to tell about the day our world changed. And if they're anything like me, mere words cannot express the horror and the grief that we felt as we watched the terrible events unfold. May we never forget.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Master of precision
Remember Isaac's obsession with the red and yellow toys? Well, yesterday I caught him systematically lining them up, checking their alignment, making adjustments, and then starting over in a new location. Check out our little perfectionist at work:
See how he doesn't even let his sisters' interference get in the way of his master plan (whatever it may be)? He is calm, he is focused—and he is most definitely a little Ted!
See how he doesn't even let his sisters' interference get in the way of his master plan (whatever it may be)? He is calm, he is focused—and he is most definitely a little Ted!
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Bumming around
A few months ago, Jude figured out how to remove his pants. Since then, we find him in a state of semi-undress just about every day:
Surprisingly, during all this time, the other kids had failed to pick up this pesky habit—until yesterday. Watching Jude slip out of his pants for the millionth time, the girls finally decided to follow suit. And then Dahlia took the pants-free look a step further: In a daring move, she shed her diaper as well:
Since it was bedtime, we slapped the (thankfully dry) diaper back onto her bare bum, immediately zipped her into her sleepsack, and hoped the incident had been a fluke.
It wasn't. Today Lucy decided to try the same trick, this time with a very wet diaper:
I really don't want to see what happens when one (or more) of the kids takes off a dirty diaper, but neither am I quite ready to resort to duct-taping them into their diapers. Looks like the Fab Four will be wearing one-piece outfits from now on—and I'll just have to hope that they don't learn how to unsnap them anytime soon!
Surprisingly, during all this time, the other kids had failed to pick up this pesky habit—until yesterday. Watching Jude slip out of his pants for the millionth time, the girls finally decided to follow suit. And then Dahlia took the pants-free look a step further: In a daring move, she shed her diaper as well:
Since it was bedtime, we slapped the (thankfully dry) diaper back onto her bare bum, immediately zipped her into her sleepsack, and hoped the incident had been a fluke.
It wasn't. Today Lucy decided to try the same trick, this time with a very wet diaper:
I really don't want to see what happens when one (or more) of the kids takes off a dirty diaper, but neither am I quite ready to resort to duct-taping them into their diapers. Looks like the Fab Four will be wearing one-piece outfits from now on—and I'll just have to hope that they don't learn how to unsnap them anytime soon!