Alternative marketing

Corin's two favorite things to do with the dollhouse we got him for Christmas, to go with his Playmobil vacation family and rescue workers: 1) set various room on "fire" to put out (OK, that goes with firefighter and police officer figures) and 2) make the dad get in the bathtub, then ring the doorbell and run out of the room while I make him run down the stairs to answer the door. These scenes have never appeared on the packaging to a dollhouse in the history of the world (although I have fun imagining such a box).

@Spuds

"Mmm... I like shir'mp! Shir'mp is the best thing in the whole world!"
--Corin, on first trying shrimp

Bob Loblaw

Alistair has started getting his tongue into his noisemaking, so his "aaaaaah"s are turning into "blah blah blah"s. Fun!

Solid career

Starting to read "The Snowy Day" to Corin: "One winter morning Peter woke up..."

"What does he do?"

"You mean him?" (pointing to Peter, the child)

"The guy."

"Peter? He's a kid like you. He doesn't really have a job..."

"Well, I play with toys and make a 'latest invention'!"

Sibling smiles

Age 1, 2, 3 & 4

Fall, Winter, Spring, Summer

Corin beside the same tree out back, through four seasons:

Now a family of four

Introducing Alistair

Alistair's first day

Hey, lookit that

New entryway/kitchen floor.

Getting close

"i got the blues," a poem

Written 9/20/96 for Amanda, found yesterday in a box I was sorting. Happy Birthday, sweets!

i got the blues
blue is the color of the tv rays that shine on your face in a dark room, tracing the contours of your face
blue is the color of my toenails (still) because I thought it would be cool if we matched
blue is the color of our jeans, pressing together as we sit close and watch Seinfeld on the couch
blue is the color of the sky, all around us as we're lifted high by the ferris wheel
blue is the color of my shower curtain
it's of no particular relevance, but it's blue
i got the blues
i like the blues

Meaningless lyrics

I was cutting the crusts of of Corin's banana bread, despite having told him that this kind of crust tastes the same as the bread, and midway through he started singing:

"Leave the crusts alone, leave the crusts alone, leave the crusts alone..."

I stopped, thinking my point had sunk in. "You do want me to leave the crusts on?"

"No, Apa," he said, laughing. "I was just singing."