The Burkerts 3

Recently you’ve been telling me that you are allergic to walking. Of course, you have also been telling me that I am allergic to peanut butter, even though I eat it on toast almost every single morning.

Yesterday we were driving home from the fabric store and I had NPR on. During a story about the Republican primary I heard you pipe up from the back seat: “Mitt and Newt?!” Yes, wahoo, our thoughts exactly.

Today I heard that during your friend’s show and tell at school you suddenly shouted out, “Morgan, you have two heads when I do this,” then pulled the corner of your eye toward your ear. Totally marvelous.

Two nights ago I was cooking dinner when the smoke alarm started going off. I looked over at you and found you underneath the kitchen table, complete with your hands over your head. Nice to know that you are paying attention to the fire/tornado drills at school.

Tonight I went out with Kim and Carol for girls’ night. You and your dad had a date. The two of you had pizza and chocolate chip cookies sitting on the ground on our tiny little patio. You ate by candlelight. When I got home, there was your bathroom stool with four little tea lights sitting on top. Tender.

The other night we put you to bed. About an hour later you shouted out “3+3=6!” Well done, girl. Now go to sleep!

You are telling everyone that your favorite food right now is lettuce. This morning you had blueberries, cereal with no milk and lettuce for breakfast. Absolutely tremendous, my lovely, funny girl.

You are the best. I cannot imagine a funnier, lovelier little girl.

Apparently you have twins. There names are Valerie and Lolita, unless their names are Bruno and Jemima.

You are devoted to your baby, the one who does not actually exist but is the standard by which all others are judged. Tonight you told us that your baby calls Mr. Burkert her “husband”. At any time your baby may be younger than you, older than either one of your parents, in school, firmly entrenched in the work world, in time-out for 80 minutes because she has said “the word I can’t say” or napping. You love her and your dad and I are very amused by her.

Today I gave you your first lesson in applying makeup. The other day you gave yourself your first pedicure. You love being a girl.

This afternoon you, your dad and I were playing Telephone for the very first time. After I came up with a few silly phrases, you took a turn. Here’s what you came up with: “Harry beary loves his berries,” followed by “Tony bony loves his bonies.” That’s it, no more games for you.

We put you to sleep around 8. You go to sleep around 10. We always have you clean your room before bedtime. Your room is oftentimes a spectacle of nighttime play by morning. In spite of your late night shenanigans, you seem fairly well-rested.

Busy evening apparently.

You came out around 9:45 one night to give me this note; apparently it couldn’t wait until morning.

You have gotten past your overwhelming fear of the ocean, and are making small forays into the water. It helps that you have friends who love the beach. In this way, peer pressure works. There is a real upside to peer pressure at this age, but we try not to abuse it because we are freaked out by the very real downside of peer pressure that lurks around the corner.

You, Lalani Rain and Kordelia. It was Kordelia’s fifth birthday and she had never been to the beach–can you even imagine? You all had a blast!

I’m pretty sure that shovel was eaten by the ocean.

When we were at the beach I asked all three of you if you needed to go to the bathroom and you all promised me you were good. As soon as you hit the water, your bladder changed it’s mind. Since you were standing in the ocean with only a dress on, I told you to just let ‘er rip into the water like everyone else does. I’m sure I didn’t mean for you to pull your dress up to your shoulders, stand just on the edge of the water line and whiz for all the world to see. Clearly we have some work to do on incognito tinkling, wahoo.

Your dad got a Ferrari for Christmas. Here are all of the parts laid out on the kitchen table:

I love how your dad always follows the directions. Here you two are washing all of the car parts before setting out on the assembly:

You and Duck having tea. He loved this game.

You, Natalia and Maddy playing dress up. Girls are just so fun.

Much love to you, wahoo-girl.

Last night at dinner you made this announcement: “Mrs. Perry is no artist,” then went on to explain that she was trying to draw a lamb, but it looked like a fuzzy dog. You said that you yelled at her to put a mountain in the picture, but she didn’t take your suggestion.

Huh.

Wahoo,

You’ve been having a pretty profound love affair for the better part of your entire life, and it seems that the two of you are in the beginning stages of parting ways. Yes, wahoo, you and Ringo appear to be making steps towards breaking up. It is really sad to watch. Your dad and I are a little heartbroken.

Ok, that was a lie. Your dad is surviving; I am a little heartbroken.

The other night your dad and I had put you to bed, then gone through the nightly shenanigans of putting you to bed about three more times after you came out for one ridiculous reason after the next. The last time you came out you walked out, put Ringo in my lap, told us you didn’t think you loved Ringo anymore and just started whimpering. Your dad and I looked at one another in confusion, listened as you talked about being sad that Ringo didn’t look the same anymore, then told you to go back to bed. Yeah, it wasn’t our most sensitive moment, but it was 10:00 and you should have been asleep a long time ago. After a few minutes we heard you crying in bed. Initially we thought you were faking it, but after another moment or two I decided to go check on you. When I found you, your face was completely soaked from tears. What?!

I snuggled up with you and listened as you talked about how much you love Ringo, but she doesn’t look the same as she used to and you don’t love the way she looks now. When I told you that Ringo would never look the way she used to, you just cried and cried and cried. I was so stunned–I guess I didn’t see this conversation coming, nor did I really predict the emotion that would accompany it. We turned on the light, I sat you in my lap and the two of us looked over Ringo, trying our level best to give a complete accounting of all her battle scars:

* green neck from where you painted yourself green while visiting aunts Tracy and Kat, and cousin Brandon in Oklahoma;
* ears that don’t stand erect anymore because you rub their interiors while you are falling asleep;
* no stuffing in her neck because you sleep with her propped under your neck, the two of your faces side by side;
* scratched eyeballs from where she has likely been dragged along sidewalks;
* rose-colored paint from she participated in your attempts to paint your nails while in the car, also done on our road trip to Oklahoma;
* pink lips from where you gave her a makeover with the makeup beautiful neighbor/friend Tanya gave you.

Yep, she’ll never, ever look quite as perky as she did when we brought her home from Target when you were about one years old. However, every one of these beauty marks is so full of love, a testimony to a steadfast friendship.

You decided that night to put Ringo in the stuffed animal basket, saying that while you still love her, you didn’t want to sleep with her anymore. It was a brave decision and I was proud of you for making it. When I went to check on you before I went to sleep, there Ringo lay, nestled amongst the non-bed worthy stuffed friends. I confess, I kind of wanted to sleep with her myself, but then my non-emotional sensibilities took hold and I left her there.

When I awoke the next morning, imagine my surprise to find you on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket watching wake-up television. And who peeked out from under your neck, her face right next to yours? Good morning, Ringo. So happy to see you.

Yes, I think you are growing up to the point that you may not need Ringo anymore. You continue to impress me, wahoo. I couldn’t be more proud of you. And, for the record, Ringo will never be far away, probably never farther than my closet, should you need her.

Wahoo,

Recently you have been pretty excited about the possibility of having a sleepover. Now, I am not certain at what age most kids start having sleepovers, but four seems mighty early to me. Nonetheless, since you are in a long holiday break, your dad is off work this week and two of your best friends live next door, we decided this was as good a time as any to try an overnighter. We sent an invitation to Lalani Rain and Kordelia and received this response from the girls’ dad: “God speed. Blanca and I are are booking a trip to Vegas!” Hahaha!

Last night at 5:30, the girls came over. First item on the sleepover agenda was swimming at the Y. Wow, but you all had so much fun. I’m not sure that Lalani Rain and Kordelia get to go swimming that often, which might explain why Lalani Rain kept saying, “I think we should do this again soon!” The three of you splashed, shrieked, dunked and laughed; your dad and I tried to keep Kordelia alive, as she kept venturing into the deeper end then floundering around. It sounds scarier than it was–she seemed to be enjoying herself, as long as there was someone to save her.

We left the pool around 7, came back home and the three of you changed into your pajamas; Lalani Rain and Kordelia had new pajama pants that said “Sleepover Party!” Fun! While your dad and I cooked a pizza, you guys watched a little bit of Lady and the Tramp. We paused the movie for a dinner break, then I made you all some popcorn and you watched a little more of the movie. I don’t know why exactly but it was around this time that Kordelia got kind of homesick and cried to go home. Her brother, Bubba, came over to bring their toothbrushes and told her that she could come home at any time (they only live ten steps away), after which she perkied up again and decided to stay. We turned the movie off and you all decided to play one of the games you got for Christmas, “I Can Do That!” It’s hard to take a picture that captures how much fun you all had trying to complete all the challenges you were given–you’ll just have to take my word for it that you all had a really good time.

I love Lalani Rain’s smile in the background.

Your dad, good at so many things, failed in his mission to skip around the trick-a-stick with a little man tucked between his legs. Actually, I was the only person to succeed at this challenge! GO MOMMA!

Having hot cocoa and cookies before it’s time to brush teeth.

By this time it was about 8:30, so your dad and I asked the three of you to brush your teeth and get ready for bed. We would read some stories together and then it would be lights out. Apparently you three turkeys thought that having a pillow fight sounded much better, so with minty fresh breath and sparkling teeth you beat one another senseless with pillows. Fun!

After we read some stories, you all settled in to go to sleep. 9:00–not too shabby, parents! We had some struggles over getting the lighting just right–Lalani Rain wanted the closet light on and the door wide open, while you and Kordelia preferred a darker room–then had a few rounds of needing water, but mostly it was easy to get you all tucked in. As we left the room for what we thought was the night, I heard someone said, “You want to tell ghost stories?” I wish I had hung around to hear what sorts of spooky tales you crafted, but I moved myself along.

Let the shenanigans begin!

The next two hours went like this: 20 minutes of laughter and mischievousness followed by me saying, “Goodnight girls. It’s time to settle down now.” “Okay! (giggle, giggle, giggle!)” 20 more minutes of up to no good and laughter, then another reprimand from me, which was again completely ignored. I was totally fine to let you play until about 11 pm, at which point I decided it really was bedtime and came into the room to get everyone settled. At this point Lalani Rain was asleep on your bed, and you and Kordelia–little imps–were playing around her. I got Kordelia tucked in next to her sister, and you wound up on the air mattress. Goodnights were said, the closet light was turned off and I went out to shut the house down.

Five minutes later: “Sniff. (pause) Sniff. (pause) Boohoo!”

So I escorted your friends back to their house at 11, where a smiling mama welcomed them home. When I arrived back at our house, you were crying, whether from sadness or sheer exhaustion one may never know. You finally fell asleep around 11:30, then woke up at 5 am and came into our bed because you were scared. Neither Burkert girl slept particularly well, which is why today you are playing at Natalia and Maddy’s house and I’m still in comfy pants at 12:30 pm.

So, was the sleepover a success? Well, this morning I heard you declare with gusto, “That was the BEST sleepover ever!” Since it’s the only one you’ve ever attended, I’m glad you thought so, wahoo.

Wahoo,

Christmas was very different for us this year because it was just the three of us for the big day. The deal we’ve struck for most of the holidays has been Thanksgiving with the Lobrano/Curtis clan, Christmas with the Balph clan. Due to being on the other side of the country with no cash for travel, this year it was B3 on their own. Casting all nervousness that we would somehow screw it up aside, your dad and I gave it our all to ensure a magical holiday for you. We baked cookies and remembered to save one for Santa, we helped you write out your letter to put with said cookie, and we read The Grinch Who Stole Christmas at bedtime. Once we were certain you were asleep, we unleashed our inner-elves! We brought out the presents we’d been hiding in my closet, we added trinkets to your stocking, ate the cookie we had helped you set out earlier, then set up the BRIO train tracks that had once been your dads and are now yours. It was fun for us to check and double check to make certain that you would not be disappointed with this, your fifth Christmas.

At 8:30 in the morning you came streaking into our room and said, “Daddy! Something’s different!” From there it was on. You opened presents until you grew bored. It was a strange phenomenon to urge you to open another present when quite clearly you were sort of over unwrapping things. Your dad and I talked about the possibility of maybe holding some gifts back for your birthday if there are as many as this year. Having said that, you got wonderful gifts: puzzles, bead sets, a new comforter set, art supplies, teddy bears, books, paper dolls, movies, an ice cream maker… WOW! Good heavens, child! I hope you don’t come roaming around talking about bored any time soon.

After opening presents we went over to Virginia, Shane and Sophia’s house for a wonderful Christmas lunch. Virginia had outdone herself in the kitchen! She had a ham, a turkey, a mushroom tart, mashed potatoes, green beans, a salad, corn casserole, a variety of cheeses, etc. We brought cranberries, macaroni and cheese and holiday breads, and another friend of hers brought desserts. It was a very relaxing, delicious way to spend a Christmas afternoon. It is so nice to have good friends.

By 6:00 your dad and I were completely worn out. I was nearly comatose on the couch, which is why you, at the tender age of four, have seen the movie “Elf”. You seemed to enjoy it. You were asleep by 8:00, either sugar plum fairies or a giant syrup-over-spaghetti eating Will Ferrell dancing in your head.

There aren’t many pictures, but we managed a few. The video at the end is tender and precious. I love that you are writing to Santa on Christmas Eve, even though your dad and I don’t really think you believe in him. You are a good sport. Goodnight, my sweetest girl.

Yes, that’s our Christmas tree on the treadmill. When there’s limited space, there are only so many options. We don’t think the tree looks overly thin though, so that’s good.

Cool breeze.

It’s a good thing hair-do’s aren’t a part of the naughty/nice deal.

And now, the video:

Wahoo,

Well, it is 6:15 pm and you and your dad have just gone out for frozen yogurt. I am in bed, sick yet again, hoping against all that is holy and good that you will think to bring frozen yogurt home for me. (Okay, not really. As of this moment it is 5:26 on Wednesday, December 28th. Apparently I started this post a while ago and am only now finishing.)

Anyway, we sent your grandpa packin’ today, which brings to an end a streak of tremendous good fortune in the realm of visiting grandparents. Last Friday evening we picked up NeeNee and Poppy, who came to celebrate a mini-Christmas with us, and then lo and behold, we got word that grandpa would be arriving Saturday afternoon! Grandpa is able to travel for next to nothing as a passenger on military flights that are not full, and while the price is right, the scheduling can be a bit wonky. He spent two nights in Washington State awaiting word as to wether there would be a flight to LA, and eventually wound up flying here on a hopper flight that was relatively cheap. Kind of a strange way to get around, but we were so happy to have him here.

I will do my best to recount all of the tremendous fun that we had during our week of visits, but I’m quite certain I’ll forget some details. To begin, I wanted to make sure that we had a lot of food on hand to feed our esteemed guests, so I spent Friday evening cooking. I love the way we have a kitchen that looks out into the living room. It was wonderful to be able to be a part of the conversation with N and P, but still be able to be tooling around, getting stuff done. I made a butternut squash soup, which turned out really nicely, and a new potato/kielbasa soup, which, while entirely different, was also yummy. I figured your dad and grandpa could enjoy the heavier soup, while the more delicate among us would go for the squash soup; I was correct on both counts. It is nice to cook for those you love.

Saturday morning N and P came to the Y with us so that they could see your swim lesson. And might I say, little girl baby of mine, YOU FINALLY PASSED SWIM LESSONS!!!!!!! I had no idea that last Saturday was going to be evaluation day. I watched with baited breath anyway as your teacher encouraged you to catch a colored ring underwater and you shook your head, insisting you would not be doing that today. She turned her head briefly and you made a quick get-a-way, dog paddling for your life towards the safety of the wall, but she was too quick for you and you were very quickly faced with having to catch that little ring. Eventually she told you that you could just catch it without going underwater, and I guess you decided this was your best bet for an easy out: she dropped the ring, you caught it without moving anything but your arm, and you were done! Imagine my shock when she handed you a purple paper and you had a check+ for every skill with a little note that said you could now move from pike to eel!! MY GIRL! I could not have been more proud. Of course, I’m proud of you all the time. When you caught the ring while barely moving a muscle I shouted out praise across the pool! Oh wahoo, it’s so easy to overdo it when one is a parent. I apologize for my future embarrassing actions. On the plus side for you, your father is much more subdued.

After class, you and Natalia–also an eel swimmer!–came back to our house and immediately got in the shower together. I was cooking, but had a great time listening to the two of you playing and splashing about. After the shower, NeeNee helped the two of you get dressed for Violet’s birthday party. When you emerged from your bedroom, you were dressed as Cinderella (the only princess dress you own) and Natalia was dressed as the Little Mermaid. Well, given that the theme of the party was Pirate Princess–how cool is that?–I thought both outfits were highly appropriate.

Pre-party

The party was spectacular. Kim and Adam did a tremendous job organizing. When we arrived they had a bunch of pizzas, cups of fruits and vegetables, drinks, an ice cream cake, a gigantic bouncer in the back yard, pirate-themed art hand drawn on the garage, and treasure maps that lead to goody bags containing eye patches. WHAT?! Who wins the award for most well thought out child’s party?! Good night alive. You had a blast. You bounced with gusto, beat up on a pinata, searched for your treasure, ate, ran around and generally had a great time. It’s really nice to have such good friends here.

Vi’s cake

Violet’s very impressive mom. She throws a mean party.

The motley party crew.

After the party, we made our way to the airport to pick up GRANDPA! Big excitement for this girl to see her daddy! Up to this visit it was almost one year exactly since I’d last seen either of my parents. This is simply unprecedented for me to go so long without seeing them, so I was terribly excited. Of course I was also a tad sad that granny wasn’t along for the journey, but we get her in March and will have to do our very best to be patient. But GRANDPA! We picked him up at the airport and brought him back to our house. I think he thought our neighborhood was sort of the barrio, but he seemed to like our digs. We didn’t do much the first day he was here–just sort of lounged and caught up. It was very fun to have grandpa here with N and P. You were ecstatic to have three out of four of your grandparents around to play with you. Grandpa doesn’t really go in much for play, but he loves to tease. He leaned over one day and told you, “Guess what? Duck just whispered in my ear. He said, ‘I don’t like Kate.’” This became a running joke between the two of you. By the time grandpa left, Duck didn’t much like anyone. Anyway, we had two homemade soups for dinner, and sugar cookies for dessert, then we pretty much all headed off to bed.

Sweetest!

Is this the universal grand-dad look?

The next morning I was cooking, N and P were on a walk, your dad was working and you and your grandpa were hanging out in the living room together. The two of you were chilling out together, which was terribly sweet. Your grandpa said, “Kate, would you like for me to teach you one of my favorite songs?” Aww, grandpa! I was scooting around in the kitchen thinking, “My sweet daddy!” Of course, this was before I heard him crooning out Joan Jett’s “I hate myself for loving you,” with you humming along. WHAT?! Well, the man never has had any sense at all. (As I write this, you are having a tantrum. Your dad and I just sent you to your room, and we are now listening to you singing in your whiniest voice “I hate myself for loving you”. I am not planning on forgiving your grandpa for this any time soon.)

Later in the afternoon we went over to our friend Claire’s house. She invited us to go watch the Venice boat parade with her, and to come over pre-race for drinks and snacks. We went over around 4 and you and Morgan played for a bit. The two of you are very good friends and play quite nicely together. Claire showed us around her apartment complex, and your dad and I decided that we will be relocating next year. She doesn’t pay much more than we do, and the amenities–oh my. The real bonus though is that they are right in the marina, so they overlook sailboats. SOLD!

Around 5:30 we walked into Venice for the boat parade. It was quite a bit of fun. All the homeowners decorate their small boats for the holidays and then join a parade on the canals. Some of the boats were rather benign in their decorations, but others were quite something. One featured an older (50′s maybe) man in a white unitard with a red ribbon around his waist shaking his stuff to Christmas tunes. Let’s all look for grandpa to rock that look next Halloween–may God help us all. Other favorites were the Hannukah boat, the canoe that came complete with a campfire for roasting marshmallows and the paddle surfer and his dog. It was a lot of fun and had a very small town feel, which was neat. I can remember growing up in Atlanta, our neighborhood had a Herby Curby parade, where residents decorated their trash bins. It was neat to capture that feeling again. I hope you will find small town moments growing up in sprawling LA.

On the way to the parade. At one point grandpa was holding both your and Morgan’s hands.

Canal, just before the parade. Pretty.

Party on the water.

Hannukah boat, complete with a menorah and a dreidel!

After we got back from the boat races we opened some presents. It was strange to open presents a couple of weeks before Christmas, but since we were all together we just went ahead and took the opportunity. Fun!

Monday was a bit of a lazy day–it might have been a bit rainy. You and NeeNee snuggled up and watched the new Beatrix Potter movies she and Poppy gave you for Christmas, which both of you loved. Monday night N and P took all of us out for dinner at a restaurant called The Curious Palette. It was delicious, delicious, yummy! You met a little friend there named Talia. The two of you drew pictures together, then compared all the things you either were learning or new how to do. The conversation went something like this:

“I know how to snap. Do you know how to snap?” “I do know how to snap!”
“I know how to buckle my shoes. Do you know how to buckle your shoes?” “I do not know how to buckle my shoes. Mom! She knows how to buckle her shoes!”
“I know how to whistle. Do you know how to whistle?” You get the picture. It was really very lovely. My girl, growing up.

Tuesday was NeeNee and Poppy’s day to fly back home, so much of the morning was dedicated to helping them get ready to go. When we were due to leave, you were a mess. I don’t know what brought the tantrum on, but it was in full force by the time we needed to be in the car. As a result, you did not accompany N and P to the airport, but instead stayed in your room while grandpa read the paper in the living room. It was sad to drop N and P at the airport–we had such an easy, nice trip and they are both so wonderful. Sniff.

Given that grandpa was traveling on military flights, we weren’t ever quite sure when he was going to be leaving. Some days he thought he’d be taking off the next morning, other times he said we’d probably be cursing the military for his length of stay. As it happened, he stayed just over a week, which was about perfect. One day we dropped you off at school and drove into Beverly Hills to see the sights. It was a little stunning, amazing and nauseating to see the money dripping off every detail in Beverly Hills. The next day we took you to school, then drove through Pacific Palisades, another big money area. Having seen some of the homes in Pacific Palisades, I was a little more inclined to think that we were indeed returning to our beloved barrio.

On Friday you didn’t have school, so you, grandpa and I drove to Anaheim and went to Knott’s Berry Farm. We had talked about going to the zoo originally. The conversation went something like this: “We have a lot of zoos in California.” “You have a lot of Jews in California?!” Good grief. Returning to Knott’s Berry Farm, originally the price was going to be about $60.00 per person, which we weren’t going to do; however, the Marine Corp was sponsoring a Toys for Tots event, so we bought three toys for $20 a piece and all got a free ticket. SCORE! We had such a good time! We all rode a bunch of rides–including a ferris ride, which I hated every moment of–and saw Snoopy on Ice, which was really fun. We stayed in the park until about 5, then drove back home. We got a pizza for dinner, then pretty much crashed as we had to get up early the next morning to take grandpa to San Diego for his departing flight.

Riding the Huff n’ Puff

Preparing to ride Woodstock’s Airmail.

WHEE!

Hey, you’re getting better at having your picture taken with characters.

Driving your semi. Grandpa and I were up top, honking for all we were worth!

You and grandpa watching a show.

On the ferris wheel. I’m surprised this shot’s not blurry given my certainty that my hands were shaking.

Ahhh, such a fun day!

Or, maybe we were just driving to San Diego because it’s so pretty! It certainly wasn’t to get grandpa on an airplane, because the military cancelled the flight at the absolute last minute. This is the big hazard of military travel: they are prone to canceling flights without notice, and retirees get last place in the priority line, so one never knows if there will be room on any listed flight. When grandpa was trying to get to Los Angeles he wound up flying from South Carolina to Washington State, where he spent two nights seeing if there was a flight to LA. He eventually took Frontier to LA, which took him from WA to Denver to LA. I have my doubts as to the efficiency or practicality of military travel for in-state travels.

Anyway, we went to the San Diego zoo to see how much tickets were, but they are crazy expensive, so we just rode the carousel in the park by the zoo. Then it was off to Rubio’s for lunch, where we met some of grandpa’s friends from high school. After lunch we headed back for home. Well, it was a nice day trip at least.

Grandpa stayed a couple more days, leaving Tuesday morning. We took him to see Arthur Christmas, which he loved and you and I thought was just okay. At one point on our way to the movie, you wanted to push a button in an elevator and he pushed it instead. I don’t know that he even really realized you wanted to push it, although you had your finger out, ready to go. Later that night, as we were all sitting around the dining room table, you informed me that grandpa had hurt your feelings. He appeared genuinely concerned about this, so we took the opportunity to talk it out. You told him that he had hurt your feelings because you wanted to push the button in the elevator. He said he did not mean to hurt your feelings and apologized, which seemed okay by you. He then informed you that you had hurt his feelings when you didn’t want to hold his hand while walking. You apologized to him, but he said that wasn’t enough. He told you that if you would give him a hug and a kiss, all would be well, which you promptly did. Look at you two problem solvers!

Here are random pictures of your visit with your grandpa:

Grandpa took us to lunch one early afternoon. Here he is with his unexpectedly huge beer and arugula pizza at 11:30 am. He’s so LA.

Learning about animals of the world together.

So that pretty much captures the visits with the grandparents. So, so fun! The only thing I’ve left out, intentionally saving it for last, is your grandpa’s special relationship with Duck. My lord but these two soul-mates. They sat on our couch by the hour, Duck with his head on grandpa’s lap, grandpa stroking his head. Duck hasn’t really been the same since grandpa left, but he’s trying to soldier on.

This picture captures the love/love relationship between these two sensitive dudes.

The three of you watching cartoons. It’s no mistake that you aren’t really visible; the lovebirds were trying to crowd you out.

Wow, I feel like I’ve seen this before.

Taken in the morning.

Taken later that afternoon. Simply astonishing.

Yeah, he’s never known comfort.

Okay, this has officially become an homage to Duck, aka Captain Fearless, aka Mister Sensitive. Sorry grandpa, you can’t have him!