It Stuck!

It's been a pretty mild winter so far, and we haven't seen much snow.  Each time there have been flurries, Little Guy's wished and hoped and predicted they'd stick, so he could make snowballs.  Well, they finally stuck!  Just enough to dust the grass and the tops of the tables and chairs, and covered over with an icy crust.  But snowball-able, nonetheless.  They kept the Mister busy.

After the Mister's business trip, we enjoyed the rare treat of having him home with us all weekend.  It was awesome, and a real balm for all of us.

The boys got balloons at a birthday party and then again at the grocery store the next day.  Later, I overheard Little Guy asking the Mister about why the balloons float.  The Mister gave an explanation about helium being lighter than air and involving words like standard atmospheric pressure, and I was just smiling to myself, because these types of explanations are par for the course around here, when Little Guy says, "Oh!  Yeah!  That sounds sense!"  He's so his father's son.

Buddy Boy likes to pack a plastic briefcase and pretend that he's going off to work.  He carries it across the den, opens the gate, climbs the bottom step and then turns around to wave at us.  Then, he lugs his briefcase all the way up the stairs, before turning around for one final goodbye wave from the landing.  He points and he grunts and he indicates that he'll be leaving now for work, but when I won't unlock the door to really let him out, he just cries and cries.

Although it's a little frightening to have Buddy Boy imitate his brother in every last feat of strength, there are some definite benefits to his admiration.  Oh, Buddy Boy?  You don't want to wear a hat?  Wait just a second.  Let me show you how I put this hat on Little Guy.  See?  And then he's dying for a hat.  And gloves.  And carrots.

He'll hardly tolerate being left out of the potty scene any longer.  If he sees Little Guy in the bathroom, he's immediately tugging at his diaper, groaning over his snaps.  He's sat and he's stood many a time, but so far, no actual results.

Little Guy felt Baby Girl kick for the first time the other day.  He'd claimed to have felt it before, but from the way his face lit up, I know that kick was the first he really felt.  Now, he'll put his hand on my tummy and if he doesn't feel anything immediately, he'll say, "She must be sweeping.  Whyyyyyy she sweeping?  She have to get big and bigger to come out in April?  Nooooow the time is April?"

To many more playable snows before April!  And may they all fall on weekends when the Mister's home!

Oh, the agony of regret.