Inhibition can wait

Dance like no one's watching? When you're 3 years old, there is no other way to dance:



Who cares if your moves are a little more Benes than Jagger? When you're 3 years old, inhibition can wait!

If only I could figure out how to bottle her utter lack of self-consciousness ... I know I'll be longing for this age of innocence soon enough!

Wiggle-licious

The Fab Four have recently acquired a raging obsession with the Wiggles. They constantly beg to watch the one Wiggles DVD that we have, they insist on looking at the cover of our one Wiggles CD when they're on the changing table, and our one Wiggles toy (a not-so-gently-used guitar) is one of the most sought-after items in the playroom.

I love the Wiggles, too, because they are teaching my kids to sing and dance, something Ted and I have been trying to do for months without much success. In fact, Lucy starts dancing the second she hears the opening song on our DVD. Check out her moves:



I don't know which dance step I like best—her hands tapping her knees at the beginning or the Frankenstein walk at the end. One thing's for sure: The Fab Four just can't get enough of the Wiggles!

The joy of jammies

Nights have been cool enough lately that I finally decided to put the kids in footed pajamas again. Lucy was the first to change into her winter jammies, and—as you can see—she was absolutely delighted with her new bedtime garb:



If only we could all derive such pleasure from the simple things in life!

Let's dance!

Today Ted and I marked our 10th wedding anniversary. It was a quiet day (well, as quiet as a houseful of toddlers could make it), just like any other day.

The Fab Four, however, were not content to let the occasion go unnoticed. After dinner, I caught them celebrating by holding an impromptu dance party (listen for Lucy calling roll toward the end—"Ju, Zach, Da-ya-ya-ya!"):



This weekend Ted and I will hold our own celebration by dressing up and going to a fancy restaurant while our dear friends Rebecca and Steve hold down the fort. I think we'll leave the dancing to the kids, though!

He's got the beat

A long time ago, when the Fab Four were still in the womb and nameless, I assigned to Isaac (then known as Baby B) the temporary name of Paul (as in John, Paul, George, and Ringo). If I'd known then how much Isaac would love to bang on his alphabet drums, I probably would have nicknamed him Ringo instead. When he's not pounding the drums, he's standing in front of them and bouncing to their music. So cute!

(Better to slap the drums than my face, I say. Anyone know of a good way to curb the gratuitous hitting that's starting to rear its ugly head?)