Hello from lovely gray Seattle. I don't think there are too many ways it's clear I'm genetically British, but a love of cold and gray is certainly one of them. After all that heat it's so nice to have a break. Possibly also this is a sign of not having air conditioning.

As Mat was taking the kids up to bed tonight, he said to me, "Simon can snap! He just did it! Can you believe it?" Simon having been able to snap for a month or so now reminds me I really should get an update in, if only for his parents' sake.

Simon, at 18 months, can:
snap, loudly and intentionally. Hip little guy.
Jump, and catch a couple inches.
say his name (zee-zye)
and a bunch of other things. Is past the "I can list out the words he knows" hump.
some phrases, usually with stock words at the beginning- more, mine, no, dada/mama. Just on the edge of more complicated sentences, I think.
use some pronouns correctly. Mostly "I," as in "I share," or "I turn." Actually, only "I" now that I think about it.
follow directions of the "go get babydoll and put her in the stroller" variety.

Pretty toddler-y. I think 18 month olds are irrisistible. They speak a language only you understand, are delighted by basically anything you do while looking at them, and you can still fool yourself into thinking they just didn't understand you when you told them to stop drawing on the walls, otherwise they would have cheerfully complied. I had pneumonia last week, and was housebound and bored so half potty trained him. I suppose most people would have done crosswords, but most people probably don't mind diapers as much as I do. It's not true progress or anything, but we're that much closer to being a zero diaper pail household.

Claire Helen is turning 3 next month, and her Grandma Margaret is coming out at the end of the month to help celebrate(Claire Helen has been planning this party for MONTHS- guest list, who will sit near who, whether or not to have cupcakes- a resounding yes, you'll be happy to know). At least she probably thinks that's why she's coming; Mat and I secretly think it's so we can go out to dinner on our fifth wedding anniversary a couple days before, if you can believe that. Five years!

I would make a list of what she can do, but really, what can't she? A couple weeks ago at the park she hopped on a tricycle and started pedaling, making me realize I have been duped for QUITE some time, pushing her with the parent bar on her little tricycle all the way to the grocery store and back. We've had a couple little parent swimming lessons, and now I'm giving her over to her favorite babysitter, who as it happens is also a lifeguard and swim instructor at a local private pool. I think it's better this way- my biggest blind spot is surely fear of the water. What's to fear? It's so great! Oh well. She's getting me back with her new defiant thing when she's mad- getting right up in my face and yelling "Jop!!" before turning around and flopping on the couch/a cushion/a chair and hiding her face. I am pretty sure I am supposed to be Highly Offended, but mostly I just cock my eyebrows and re-explain about the no paint on the rug policy.

The other night we turned on PBS so I could give her a haircut, and The Winged Migration was on, a documentary about a bunch of different birds and their migratory patterns. She can already name so many different kinds of birds(and any other animal, really, bugs too)- different species of puffins, terns, and herons, and always very thoughtfully absorbs more. I don't think it will be too long before she's teaching us species names. She's a little biologist.

Last week we had a hot day, so we set up our little wading pool(which Claire Helen will tell you is basically a country club in our backyard, and in fact couldn't even wait her turn at circle time to tell all the other kids about the marine installation.). Setting these things up always attracts the neighborhood kids, and one of their moms caught some pictures of Simon and Claire Helen snuggling.









Simon's swim trunks, which I like very much, were really only for show. I guess the pool was a little bit chilly for mister 2% body fat, so whenever I'd try to plop him in, he'd do that polarized magnet thing toddlers can do with the ground when they don't feel like being put down, where no matter how I'd try to move his body toward the surface of the water, he would always keep it exactly 12 inches away. All while pronouncing the whole thing "IIIIIIIIIIIIIce! No! No! Iiiiiiiiice!" Yes, obviously, Simon, as your mother I have decided to dip you into a large bucket of ice. This is my idea of fun. Hold on, I'm going to go get some fire ant hills for you to walk through.

He did very much enjoy throwing dirt into the pool, hopefully onto another toddler.

Not getting through...

Claire Helen: Can I have the monkey plate?
Mama: I don't know. Simon gets to pick first because you took away the doll stroller*, and that made him sad.
CH: Otay. Simon, can you pick not-the-monkey-plate?

* When Simon is in the same room as the doll stroller, all the other toys disappear, and it is just he and his muse. Sometimes he likes to just stand with it, holding onto both handles, revelling in the power that is the stroller. No one else is allowed to touch it, or heaven forbid PUT anything in it. He just wants to push it around. There is something about this age and doll strollers. Claire Helen's first, and luckily so far only, flailing on the ground flat out in the parking lot tantrum was inspired by this very same doll stroller at right around this age, when I had the audacity to *touch* it to keep it from rolling into oncoming traffic as we took it from the toy store to the car.

I keep forgetting to mention that Claire Helen's hair has gotten curly. I wouldn't say it's exactly sudden, because it's always gotten curly when it's humid, but a couple months ago she finally got enough hair that it can stand on it's own, instead of the slightest breeze flattening it out.

Simon, alas alack, still lacks hair.


He doesn't seem to mind.

And lately, actually, he is willing to wear a hat which was my whole problem with him not having hair anyhow, how to keep his scalp from fricaseeing in the summer.



I hope you all had a wonderful mother's day. I did. Mat and the kids made me waffles in bed(I'm sure Simon and Claire Helen were a great help), and then we went for a run around Green Lake. I got to get myself some new pajamas (did you all know I have kind of a pajama thing? My everyday clothes come from Target and Old Navy, and I roll my eyes at the thought of children wearing clothes that are more expensive than grown up clothes, but we all have nice pajamas. Sleeping is where it counts most to be comfortable, right?), so all in all a good day.

I would love to tell you all more about Claire Helen and her bountiful love for our new plastic backyard wading pool and first out- of- context - not- her- or - Simon's - name - sight - word (fish), or how Simon still only has maybe 50 words and a bare handful of two word phrases but seem to be learning his letter sounds(a second child thing, I think, though of course he, as all children here in Lake Woebegone, is above average in all ways). But today is Wednesday, and that is special Simon and mommy fun day, and we are headed to the toddler play center, where word on the street is they got a new, bigger bouncy house, and took out the much adored mini roller coaster. Serious drama, let me tell you.

Hello! I am, alas alack, still cameraless. At least still stop-motion camera less. I keep not posting because I think most of you really just humor me putting up text to get to the photos, but really, in addition to being a photo repository this is also the kids’ baby books. So I should jot something down. And get a lead on this You-Tube business, because the other night Mat and I took a video of Claire Helen pretending to go camping (with “Charlie” and “Real Claire Jane,”) who were both lucky enough to get their own cakes made out of diaper wipes. There was a whole tent, and a river, and some raccoons. I love how involved she gets.

Now I’m feeling list-y.

1) Simon is in the middle/at the start of an insane must have EXACTLY what Claire Helen has in EXACTLY the fashion she has it thing, whether or not his tipping up the steamed milk cup with a straw in it results in all the milk spilling all over the floor or not. It all started with Cheerios a couple weeks ago, and permeates every aspect of their shared life. Kind of nice that they’re close together, actually, because there’s a lot of overlap in what’s appropriate.

2) Simon demonstrated the fastest word acquisition I have ever seen the other day. I gave him a marshmallow, while saying the word once, I think, and now all day every day he goes over to the corner in the kitchen where I keep my secret hot chocolate stash, and peeps “Mah-meyow? For the rest of his life he’s going to have a whiff of positive association he can’t place with that corner, all Proustian, because I am never giving him that much sugar at one shot again. Yowza. He can get worked up.

3) I just discovered you have to have carseats to travel in San Francisco cabs, and this makes my whole hippie dream of only using public transportation while visiting the hippie mecca as well as my hippie alma mater much less tenable. Hmph. New York doesn’t have this problem.

4) Claire Helen’s preschool buddies, Indra and Delphine (cool names, no?) told her if she said she liked orange she must be a boy, with accompanying genitalia she is not interested in having, because girls only like purple and pink. So now purple and pink are “her best.” Sigh. Textbook gender socialization, and ugh, not a purple or pink fan over here. Let’s hope this is a short phase.

5) But! They ordained Claire Helen “Prime Minister of the Horsies” today, meaning she got to tell them where to go, and got the super special pretend horsey with the plush head, so I will forgive them. I don’t think hearing about her pretend games will ever get old to me.

6) Simon has been doing this rage-y tantrum-y thing when he wakes up from his nap, lately(hence the marshmallow above, ahem). Apparently what he wants me to do, when I get up there, is to sit in front of his crib, nottouchingitatall, while he squirms and plays with his nearly dead aquarium toy on the side. Okay, weirdo. Whatever you say. I do it, though.

7) Claire Helen can now get herself dressed head to toe- socks, shoes(even buckle ones), shirts, tights, coats, whatever. She doesn’t always want to, and it’s not always super fast, but I’m pretty proud.

8) Simon is kind of past the stage where when Claire Helen is at preschool it’s cool to just let him wander around while I do laundry or whatever. So we’ve been going on little adventures instead, getting a muffin at a coffee shop or hitting the toddler playcenter. I don’t think we appreciated our clean, folded laundry that much anyhow, and Simon gets all puffed up with his me ‘n mom time.

9) In two days he will be the age Claire Helen was when we had him. Wild.