Brothers and sisters

So I spent last weekend with my sister, who is expecting and due in August [outside of the birth of my two little ones, there is no other baby on the planet I've ever been as excited to meet].

Which got me to thinking how lucky I am to have a sister and how I look forward to Samson and Jane developing that kind of relationship as they get older.

I should note here that a fair amount of our conversations involves making fun of our parents, so I've already set the karmic wheel in motion on that one. Still, it will be something to see...

Suhwing battah...

Samson is absolutely crazy for baseball. We probably spent 20 hours throwing, hitting, and catching this weekend. Not to mention all the tobacco chewing.

When he's in the batter's box, which moves in direct response to the direction he is facing after he swings, watch out. I have to say I'm impressed about how good he is in not getting frustrated when he misses. But he expects you (or more directly, me) to get the ball he's just missed. The rationale: "I have the bat in my hands."

However, when he hits it---which is actually pretty often---he then likes to chase after it. Also, he's not so good with the tee. In fact, and I'll need to check with the good people at Elias, I think Samson recorded the first-ever bunt from a tee over the weekend.

At the beach

Not much time to write, but I wanted to share a few photos from our trip to the beach. We made a whirlwind tour of Connecticut and Long Island, including a ferry ride across the Sound [more on that later; by the way, if you see a sign that says "Horn is loud and may blow without warning," pay attention.]

Samson: Electric Boogaloo

I have not seen it (yet), but Sam is crazy for a show called Hip Hop Harry. According to Vicki, it's the worst show she's ever seen.

This carries some weight, given that she's sat through Lord knows how many episodes of the Wiggles and the Doodlebops, much less an adolescence replete with Charles in Charge, Saved by the Bell, Full House, and Small Wonder. [I shudder to think what her TiVo list would have looked like circa 1988...]

Anyway, last night Samson was doing his usual pre-bed stalling, playing furiously with everything in arm's reach, when all of a sudden he lay down on the floor and started spinning around. He went on one knee and did this really jerky wiggly kind of dance and then informed me he was "breakdancing."

Don't get me wrong, I hold no brief against hip hop (at least not the old-school variety). I still have De la Soul and Public Enemy cassettes(!) somewhere in the attic of our house. [And, just between you and me, I was known to wear a Flavor Flav-style clock around campus occasionally during my freshman year. The irony was lost on a few people here and there, but I remain committed to the countdown to Armageddon.]

In any event, this show is apparently an attempt to teach preschoolers valuable lessons using music that bears about as much resemblance to hip hop as Ding Dongs do to black forest cake. All things considered, I guess that's ok. Although it's not like there isn't already a good model out there for teaching kids useful things with well-crafted music. [You're lying to yourself if you don't think that little train engineer helped you learn grammar...]

After breaking it down on his carpet, Samson sat up, smiled, and said "the house is spinning."

Well done, Harry. Thanks.

Where cute and weird collide

Jane is obsessed with eating her toes.

Samson is obsessed with making sure we are not paying too much attention to Jane...

Temper, temper

So this is new: Samson has decided that simply saying "no" to something is no longer sufficient.

When he really doesn't want to do something now --- like get his diaper changed, which means a few minutes' interruption of playing --- he gives a full-on "no-wah." Which, if he's tired, cranky or both, can quickly ratchet up into a tantrum. Cue the yelling, crying, and occasional fall/jump to the floor.


Obviously, every kid throws tantrums at some point in his or her life, but to see Samson go from playing sweetly to something just this side of Joe Pesci in Goodfellas is a little unsettling.

For now, we've simply been walking away from him to let him know that we're not going to respond.

But I have a feeling that won't work in public, however, and I may soon be that guy in the supermarket with a shrieking toddler over his shoulder headed for the exit who causes everyone to wonder if they're witnessing a toddler meltdown or a kidnapping.

I'm gonna hate being that guy.

At the movies

Fascinating article on the movie industry and work rules allowing infants on the set. I've always wondered who represents the littlest actors.

While there's something really goofy about seeing one of those hospital scenes with the new mom and what's clearly a three-month-old baby swaddled in her arms, it seems really weird that you'd want to bring your newborn [or newborns, in most cases] to a movie set at just over two weeks of age.

Although maybe if I had two-week-old twins, I'd be using any excuse to get everyone out of the house. [We've got friends with twins due in early July; I'll check in with them on day 15 to see if they're looking for an agent.]

Father's Day

We had a really nice low-key Father's Day [including at least an hour when Samson, Jane, and --- truth be told --- I took a nap].

This little photo series (it came in a nice frame and will be hung in my office first thing tomorrow) made my day before it had really started. Almost literally, since I got to open my present just a bit after 7 this morning, when Samson arrived in our room, trucks in hand and ready to do some construction.

*&#%^!!!!!

Thought some of you might appreciate this link.

Apparently a number of Thomas trains, particularly the red ones (like James the #5 engine), have lead in their paint. Needless to say lead is toxic if ingested; also needless to say, any toy marketed to kids under 4 stands an excellent chance of being licked or otherwise inserted into a mouth.

Antediluvian

Samson loves dinosaurs. He also loves Noah's Ark. As luck would have it, there's a new museum that, quite literally, joins the two. Good for them.

It's about time. I'm so tired of boring exhibits on fossils and "science." Finally, we can just concentrate on the cool stuff: like how Noah got all those dinosaurs onto the boat.

What concerns me about this museum is not the substitution of faith for science or the calcifying effect of belief (religious or otherwise) on honest dialogue. Sure these are important issues.

But I wonder what it means for a family I care deeply about. Are you going to tell me these people never existed? The Great Gazoo you can keep, but I refuse to believe Fred and Wilma were just made up to keep me quiet on Saturday mornings (and later, to shill really awful cereal). I know what I believe, and no amount of high-tech chicanery will make me budge.

Also, I'm not sure if there's an exhibit on the Nephilim mentioned in Genesis (6:4), but I'd travel to Kentucky to see that. Wouldn't you?

By the way, I think Samson thinks that Noah's last name is Zark. Every time we play with his little Fisher Price set, he apportions out the people and animals and invariably I get Mrs. Noah and he gets "NoahZark."

Swimsuit issue

Samson went to his very first pool party on Saturday. Our friends had a barbecue/pool bash, and Sammy the fish was very excited to get wet. He was also oblivious to the fact that he was one of only two boys there [our friends' daughter is 3, and so her friends, naturally, are 3-year-old girls].

He was not oblivious to the 7-year-old girl there and talked about her for half the car ride home. (Good grief).

The other boy there, Will, had just woken up from a nap, and his mom jokingly referred to him as "the cranky boy." The joke was lost on literal Sam, who must have figured this kid had been named according to the same conventions as Robin of Locksley and Vlad the Impaler, because for the rest of the day, he kept referring to him as "Will the Cranky Boy."

Will didn't actually factor much into the day as Samson was convinced he was playing with the little tribe of girls. In reality, he was playing alongside them or near them at best, but it was pretty funny to watch. And they were pretty tolerant.


It shouldn't surprise me, since they are related and all, but the resemblance of these two really struck me when I saw this photo.

Also, they both seem already to have perfected the early U2 style of not looking/looking disinterestedly at the camera for photos.

To everything turn, turn, turn...

Last week, Jane Victoria rolled over for the first time. Of course we were very proud. Not that we're keeping score, but this is a full month ahead of her big brother's previously unbroken record.

That said, we're not handing out trophies just yet. Her new found rollability is only partial: She hasn't quite figured out how to either roll back or roll completely over. And she really doesn't like being stuck on her stomach.

So those few minutes before she settles for a nap have become uncharacteristically participatory. Time was, Jane went in the crib and Jane fell asleep. Now I'll go in to find her crying and on her belly, only to roll her over and get the "hi Daddy, want to play?" smile.

She may be ahead of Sam's schedule on the rolling, but she's clearly been taking pointers from him on bedtime stalling.

Silent film

In the kitchen with Dada

Never let it be said that this isn't a full-service blog. In addition to making strawberry jam last night, I also made a really nice strawberry soup. We'll be making strawberry crepes later for dessert.

[Sidenote: Taken in the context of the farm stand, seven pounds of strawberries doesn't look like that much. In the kitchen, it's a whole other story; seven pounds is a hell of a lot of strawberries. It occurred to me, as I worked in the kitchen last night, that Jane didn't weight seven pounds at birth; so there you have it.]

In any event, here's a great recipe I found for strawberry soup.

Ingredients:

1 quart strawberries, washed and hulled
1 cup sugar
1 cup white wine
4 tablespoons lemon juice
2 teaspoons grated lemon peel

Basically, you put everything in a food processor and, er, process it until it's smooth. Then chill and serve. You can garnish it with mint leaves, strawberry slices, and a dollop of fresh whipped cream if you like.

I had a sample last night, and you can probably halve the amount of white wine the recipe calls for. Unfortunately, I'm from the Hannah Arendt school of recipe following, so because the order was given, I obeyed.

Which is to say that Sam will not be sharing in the soup.

Also, Vicki may start singing Carole King songs or challenging me to arm wrestle. We'll see.

But it really does taste good.

The Good Earth

Hard to believe it's been a year since we last went strawberry picking, but we went back to the same farm this morning. It was a lot hotter this time around, and --- surprisingly enough --- the place was pretty crowded (by which I mean we weren't the only family there). Even so, it was terrific.

We ended up getting almost 7 pounds of strawberries, which cost us about 8 bucks, so that made it even better.

And I'm pretty sure Samson ate several pounds' worth while he was "helping" us.

The family next to us must have picked 20 or 30 pounds of berries [I'm basing this on our one semi-filled container to their five bursting ones]. They looked a little too NPR to be survivalists, but you never know.

Needless to say, I can't wait for the kids to go to bed so I can make some jam and other treats...