A New Hope

What this video lacks in clarity, it more than makes up for in nostalgia. I didn't have this toy, but I definitely remember the commercial.

After a six-month hiatus, the Star Wars figures are back in circulation. Yesterday was a typical midwinter Sunday, and Samson and I made the best of Jane's marathon nap [almost 3 hours] by playing Star Wars in the basement. I say "playing," but this was like the Bataan Death March of action figure play.

If my attention wandered for even a moment, I was reprimanded with "Daddy! You're not playing." In fairness, he did let me leave the room for bathroom breaks. But he also followed me to ensure my swift return. [Sidenote: Vicki was out at a craft/business conference, which was for the best because Sam is suspicious of her ability to "play right" with the Star Wars figures. Poor Vicki tries, but I think Samson knows she spent her youth with Barbie and not Boba.]

Sam's surveillance notwithstanding, it was good to see the guys again. As is his wont lately, he immediately laid claim to the bad guys and consigned me to the clearly inferior "good guy team."

Again, I'm pretty sure it's all costume-based. Seriously, who looks cooler than Boba Fett? Not pasty Luke Skywalker in his weird bathrobe and leggings get-up, that's for sure. And apparently, when I was about six or seven, my favorite figure was Darth Vader. This couldn't possibly be genetic, could it?

I blame the parents

Aaaaaaaaaand we're back. Long time between posts, I know. Sorry. Oh like you've been waiting by the monitor all this time...

So the other night, we're having dinner and Samson starts another round of "questions that don't really have answers." What follows is close to verbatim:

Samson: "Was God around when there were superheroes?"

Me: "What do you mean?"

Samson: "I mean, are they friends?"

Vicki: "Superheroes aren't real. They're stories."

Samson: "I know. But is God their friend?"

Me (to Vicki): "Hey did you see his school is running a 'Superheroes of the Bible' camp this summer?"

Jane: "APPELJOOOS"

Samson: "I could be a Bible hero. Maybe I could be Daniel."

Me: "That would be pretty cool. Or you could be Samson..."

Samson: "Or maybe I could be one of the Roman soldiers that got Jesus dead."

[Silence.]

Me: "Really? You'd want to be a Roman soldier? I don't think they were very nice; you know, they hurt Jesus."

Samson: "But they have cool weapons. And helmets."

Vicki: "I am really not looking forward to Easter."

Needless to say, Samson's interest in his kids' Bible and continuing affection for chapel is kind of a double-edged sword. [And yes, I intended that pun. I intended the hell out of it.]

I overheard him telling Jane the other day about how after David beat Goliath, he cut his head off. Which I'm pretty sure is not what happened (although it does give the story a cool Braveheart kind of denouement).

Either way, this Pascal Season is going to really interesting.

By the way, I thought it was OK to let his misuse of "got" go in this case. As much as I'd like him to be using transitive verbs when needed, somehow our conversation didn't need the addition of the word "kill."

My girl

Cookie crumbs and all, you are a beauty sweet Jane.

Dada on the roof

With the winter now hard upon us, finding things to do on the weekends is critical. There's only so much time we can all spend together in our little house before, well, let's just say it's good to get out into the world.

We've been fans of the train museum for a few years now, and it's fun to watch Jane exploring alongside her brother. She can climb into and onto most of the trains now (even the ones marked "Do not climb"), and we had a great time strolling around the roundhouse.

What struck me when I looked at this picture later was just how grown-up Samson looks in this photo. I don't want to get all Tevye on you, but where did the time go?

In a somewhat related vein, we ran into Samson's best friend (and fellow train enthusiast) Jacob during on our visit. The boys played, and Jane sort of followed along a bit.

As we drove home, I asked Sam and Jane what their favorite thing at the museum was. Samson's answer was the crane used to fix the wrecks (I'm sure there's a technical term for this, but as my knowledge of trains comes almost exclusively from the Island of Sodor, I'm calling it the break-down train).

Jane's answer: "Jacob."

Good grief.

Samson James: Zen master

Yesterday, I was sitting at the dining room table playing with Play-Doh [the kids were playing too], when Samson, apropos of nothing, asked me the following:

"Isn't jumping just like falling up?"

I still have no idea how to answer that question.

Almost two

Sweet Jane turns two tomorrow. Hard to believe how big she's getting.

So what have we learned in the past year? Jane likes capes. And swinging. And the ocean. She's pretty fast but usually tips you off before making a move by announcing: "running, running."

Jane likes to eat. A lot. And she's not shy about asking for seconds. Or thirds.

She would also rather not wear socks or shoes. Even in winter.

Jane loves her brother, but she is not afraid of him. At all.

She loves her nana. And dogs. Usually in that order. Also, she likes to play and watch TV (all day).

She is sweet and strong and funny and full of surprises. Here are a few of my favorite pictures from the past year. Happy last day of being one Sweet Jane.

Beauty and grace

I'm not big on "inspirational quotes." I steadfastly refuse chicken soup (or any other soup, consomme, or chowder) for my soul. And I avoid movies that have been called "life-affirming" like the plague.

But a few months back when I was reading Annie Dillard's "Pilgrim at Tinker Creek," I was struck by a line she had written about walking in the woods and, well, paying attention:

"Beauty and grace are performed whether or not we will or sense them. The least we can do is try to be there."

I thought about this line quite a bit and thought it applied as much to raising children as to walking in the woods.

This morning, as I was trying to get ready for work (late, as usual), as Vicki and Samson were haggling about who should remove his pull-up and whether or not there would be TV before breakfast (there would not), sweet Jane walked into the room and counted to 10.

I should point out that Jane is not yet two (not until next week, anyway), and while she has lately become more chatty, she's never been a "hey look at me" kind of kid, particularly when it comes to verbal feats. She counted out loud in a voice barely above a whisper, as if doing it only for herself. But we immediately stopped, each of us, and looked at the other as if to say "did you know she could do that?"

At which point she realized she had an audience and gave us this big, beatific smile. Beauty and grace, indeed.

Sweet Jane, you are a wonder.