365 days in 822 words

Tap, tap, tap… is this thing on? Ahem. Well hello there.  It’s been awhile.  Just about a year, to be exact.  I lost hold of this blog as I worked to stay on top of One Dandelion, but I’ve been missing the personal chronicling and the opportunity down the road to look back on stages of our life that really did fly by so fast (even if they seemed interminably long while struggling through them).

As far as years to “skip,” this last one has been a good one, major life changes-wise.  That is, not all that much is new.  We’re still here in Moscow, living the good life.  Kids are growing like weeds and happy as clams, biking and reading and climbing fences and catching frogs.  Work is going great for Mark, and plods along uneventfully for me (just as I like it).  We’ve found a network of great, dear friends to share dinners with and swap kids with and spend meandering days playing on rivers with.  It feels amazing.  Except for the set-back of a torn meniscus and ensuing knee surgery early this year, I dare say things are – gasp – mellow.

But of course we couldn’t stand to keep it that way for long.  Mere weeks after Max has learned to pump on the swing, wipe his own butt and ride a two-wheeler, we find out we’re adding #4.  Yup.  Gulp.  We’re both over the moon and terrified, but mostly the former.  (Except when I remember just how long a road it is to  pumping on the swings and wiping their butts and, well, you get the idea…)

I convinced myself that I could indeed reignite the blog by refusing to try to “catch-up” in any meaningful way.  Instead, I’ve spent an evening scrolling though the photo archives of the past year and pulling out my favorites.  And then transcribing all of the “notes” from my iphone that I’ve jotted down as one or another kid said something hilarious that I didn’t want to forget.  What follows is a mash-up of April 2011 to April 2012, with (hopefully) more steady (and cohesive) posts to follow.  It’s good to be back!

Morgan: “I wonder how many thumbs and fingers there are in the world if you mixed them all up?”

Henry: “Do you know three reasons why I’m not good at playing dead?  One: I can’t hold my breath that long.  Two: I can’t stop my heartbeat.  Three: I can’t stop my pulse.  Other than that, I’m pretty good at playing dead.”

Morgan: “….That’s why I don’t want to be a pirate – ’cause you have to poop in the sea and you never see your family.”

Henry: “Morgan lacks embarrassment.”

Max, in a bad fit of eczema itchiness: “Maybe buying toys will make me feel better?”

Morgan: “The movie had a terrible ending! They married, and it was over!”

Max: “Some of the taking-toys people (in his class) don’t help clean up, either.”

Morgan: “When the backs of my knees sweat it smells like burning crackers.”

Henry: “I hope that evolution leads to birds being able to talk in English.”

Goofballs

I’m pulling Morgan and Max in the bike trailer and we’re approaching a big hill.  I ask if I look strong enough to make it up and Morgan replies: “Well, you’re not looking very skinny, so I guess you have enough muscle.”

Henry, to Morgan: “Don’t you think there would have been way cooler people and animals if *we* were Prometheus?”

Mo: “Do you want to hear my version of ‘the guns on the army truck’?” (Sung to the tune of “The Wheels on the Bus”)

Morgan asks Mark for “gears, screws, and machine parts to fiddle with.”

Morgan told us he’d learned about the difference between fiction and non-fiction books at school. When I asked which type he preferred, he replied: “fiction – cause a fiction book can be like about a bunny with moose legs, a beard, a diaper and a petrifying laser gun.”

Morgan asked me if it was against the law to ride on the roof of a car. When I told him yes, he asked: “Are there any places in the world without laws, or Presidents?” Henry chimed in that there probably weren’t either in the Amazon rain forest, to which Mo replied: “So you could throw poop at people there, AND ride on the roof of a car?!”

After singing “Angels Watching Over Me” (his favorite goodnight song) to Mo, he says: “I don’t even know if I believe in angels.” After explaining that some people like to think there is something good watching out for them he replies: “I think maybe moms are angels. <pause> But I DO believe in Santa Claus.”

Henry, after I’d asked him to grab me something or other: “I’m kinda being your servant right now!” Then, perhaps thinking better of what he’d said: “Now I know what it feels like to be you!”