Thirsty, Son?

We have a rule of thumb: If whatever goofy and ill advised thing Hale is doing won't actually kill him, we are allowed to snap a picture of it before putting the kibosh on it.

This is why people have kids!

Hale had so much fun on Thanksgiving with his cousins. I mean, unbelievable amounts of fun. Here he is hanging on Zach, learning about video games.

Watching Hale brought back that feeling of being a kid — that particular, super kind of fun—the kind you have with your cousins during holidays, when adults aren't really paying all that much attention to you. They are busy with gravy and wine and family gossip and you are running between their legs and over couches and experiencing a secret world under the dining room table.

There is this feeling of craziness and anticipation in the air—the build up to the meal. And then before you know it, you are being carried from the car to bed.

I love carrying Hale from car to bed. On Thanksgiving night, Scott and I felt his tired, happy weight in our arms and were thankful for all the family we have to share him with. What joy!

Hale's First Sentence (or: Gettin' the Wordz, Yo)

A boy and his boat.

Hale was eating apple slices the other morning, dipping them in his milk, when he realized he had a toy on his hands.

He started piloting the slice around in the lake of milk and on his high chair tray, going "Bbbbbbuuuuuhhhhh... Boat, boat, boat.

I was like Wow, Hale, did you make a boat? And gave a quick nod and said, "Yeah. Make boat."

Totally a sentence, featuring a subject and a verb. Nice work, Bunny. Gettin' the wordz, yo.

Hale's first snow

Little Gym or Winter In Seattle with a Toddler or Hale Wants a Really Good Rain Suit for Xmas

There is this thing called Little Gym. I didn't know it existed till Hale started walking.

It happens all over the city. Community centers open up their gyms during certain hours of the day– they rotate – to toddlers and their moms (It is pretty much moms, but Scott has been more than I have.) seeking refuge from boredom.

They put all these toys in there. Like, anything with wheels or that is puffy. Then they let the toddlers run wild.

Thursday, when the rain was cold and sideways, Hale and I ventured to Hiawatha Community Center. We were not the only ones.

The kids in orange... daycare kids. I told Hale if he didn't watch it, he'd be wearing one of those orange shirts soon. ( kidding!)

Puddle Jumping in the Great North Wet

Hale-O-Ween

Hale went tricker treatin' tonight.

Dragon, meet pumpkin.

(Special thanks to auntcousing Kimberly for Hale's awesomely cute winged dragoncape costume!)

The first door. You can't tell, but he's about to knock.

And, now for the first time in video:

And a slideshow.

And finally, the piece de resistance (actually there's quite a piece of resistance going on in the kitchen, as I type: Hale wants to sit in the big chair at the kitchen table, but won't stop squirming, making a fall risky. He's pissed.)...

Hale's Very First Trick-or-Treat experience:

Damn, I Forgot

It's a big day in our son's life and development, a Hale True milestone:

Yesterday, for the first time, Hale said, "Damn."--properly, in context. (Umm, oopsie, kinda my bad on that one.)

Also, Amy forgot we had a kid. Just for a little while, though.

Preschool, Yo!

Hale had his first day of preschool at the local community college co-op thingamajig. What a lovely program.

I took this because it gives the illusion that Hale is sharing.

That's my boy, right there: drinking from the 'water table'. That's the way to build up that immunity, son!

Teacher Wendy masterfully showing H how to scoop melon balls of playdough.

Wow? The whole thing, wow.

Hale the Puyallup (Free Your Glee!)

You can do it at a trot; you can do it in a stroller...

**

The Puyallup Fair is pretty epic. How important is it around here? It's so important (because this is one of the ways in which we measure things, now) that the URL for the website is www.TheFair.com.

No Messing Around, is what that says. I mean, right? An absolute Institution.

And this year, Hale went, with his paternal grandparents and his dad.

Here are a few snaps...

getting his peeps on

Did you know they serve ice cream at The Fair?

Monkey on his back. Actually a genius device the 'tail' of which is a leash. Handy.

Fair=Food. Simple math.

Free crap: A grandmother's prerogative. A grandson's birthright. (Thanks Mom!)

Have a look at a slideshow of a bigger set of pictures.

**the photo at the top is of two victims of The Slingshot, silhouetted in front of a half-moon.

Beach Vacation #2 (or, Why Yes, We DO Have it Rather Rough!)

We had a wonderful trip to the Washington coast at the end of August. Here are a few pictures.

Hale got to try his hand at the traditional Benson family table-painting.

We read some funny books.

H. became an absolute fiend for blackberries. See. Are. Aye. Zee. Why. For them.

The boy loves the beach.

Have a look at a slideshow of the rest of the pictures.

A New Family Gesture

"Touch My Nose" ®

Couple weeks ago in the middle of the night Hale woke up freaked out and pissed off, screaming his head off. By no means an everyday occurrence, but not a real surprise, either.

I went into his room to try to comfort him, figure out if something was out of whack (diaper, foot caught in crib, whatever), and he was pretty inconsolable. He does this thing of reaching around me, thrusting toward the door behind me--beyond which are (in usual order of Hale's preference) 1) Mom 2) out of here 3) books, toys, strawberries 4) the door out to the hallway.

It is a very insistent gesture, and is often accompanied by a forceful squirm, so that I need to scramble to keep hold of him. Wily, this kid. And he's howly, too. Wily, howly, mad, and sad.

Well that night, I said to Hale, "Touch my nose, son." Just like that, simple as you please. "Touch my nose and it will make you feel better. If you touch my nose, it will make it easier to go to sleep."

And he did. He stopped crying--well, slowed from wailing to sniffling--and touched my nose. And it worked. "It" being something I don't know or understand very well at all, but that I think must be the value of placebo and distraction and most of all touch.

He cried a bit more, but wound it down in record time, touched my nose a few more times, and I touched his, and it just worked. He asked to be put back in his crib (which he does by leaning over and grunting, the clever boy), heaved a big post-cry sigh and went right off to sleep.

Jump to today, a couple weeks later. The magic of the nose touching had appeared short lived--not dead or anything like that, just not the miracle it first seemed when I'd tried it a few more times. But today, Amy and I were scruffling around, having a pretty heated conversation* about some dumb point of logistics and hurt feelings, really about as fiery as it ever gets around here.

And we were standing close together, I holding Hale, Hale looking in turn at each of us. And he stuck out his finger and touched my nose, right in the middle of a pissy growly sentence. And then he touched Amy's nose, right in the middle of her witty and stubborn rejoinder.

We were gobsmacked. Amy and I just looked at one another in awe of our son and what he had done. Somehow he had observed and internalized this whole big meaning in what I had thought was just a cute distraction trick, and then applied it to a whole nother situation. Wow, right?

Then he craned up and gave me a kiss, and then grabbed Amy's shirt to tug her in for hers. Hale had learned the value of placebo and distraction and touch. Saved the day, and taught us a new gesture that will be just ours.

Love that kid.


(*aka "a fight")

Not Quite Yet, But Soon

Grandmothers Look Away

(Okay, grandmothers may click, but do so with an open mind and good humor)

Remissing You, Too. (A Few From the Beach)

We had a few very welcome days of chilling out at Manzanita, on the Oregon coast.

The felt-pen dance

Classic, right?

Hale just went and climbed up on the bike. Then Amy zoomed him around the yard.

...Just like he does with our neighbor's Razor scooter in the hallway.

Thank you, Amy, for making so many lovely pictures of your boy and husband!

Heaven.

This one was actually taken first, right after H. just squirmed out of my hands, out of the carrier, and onto the sand, then tore headlong into the sPacific Ocean.

He loved it. We loved that.

We Have Been Remissing You.

Thus, a bit of a catch-up.

A few of the many perfectly lovely moods of Hale.

I Wish It Were Fathers' Day Once A Week

Just a brilliant day.

I said to Amy (realizing as I spoke, the meaning of what I was saying), "You know, it really seems like Fathers' Day is, like, getting more important these days."

Hale had his first bike ride today. I think he liked it.

Hale and his family went camping. Hood Canal. Mmm. Camping.

O Ferry!

This is not my beautiful house!

Still life with space heater.

Magic tools

Look, son--yer ma

Look, Dad--a bird

Dear Neighborfriends Susanna, Anna and Asher, rocking that rainbow luv (now featuring a real rainbow!)

Yes, please

Trout on cedar. Spuds in one foil, sparagus and bacon in the other

Always with the beauty

Rhubarb and strawberry jumble in the dutch

Got a bit crispety but no less delicious for it. Pine nuts kind of made it sing

Bacon, morning noon and night.

Good heavens

Forest walking

Forest tipping over

Forest running

Forest salami-and-cheese-and-apple picnicking

Forest musing

Beans on the fire, cornbread in the foil

"It is very difficult to remove." As a one-time (mostly bad) copywriter, I have always loved this terse wording. It would be so tempting to write a more evocative sentence there, featuring some imagery and/or moralizing. But no. It is perfect.