Walking

I like going for walks with you. Sometimes you help push the stroller, sometimes you ride. But always, we name the cars. Well, the cars that I know anyways. I think we've both gotten better at identifying them. Along with the cars, you've started adding new items, "garage door", "home" and "papa" for garbage cans. I am assuming that last one is because you've seen him take our garbage out, and is not some precocious commentary on your parents.

Up, Up and Up

It is hard to resist when you ask to be picked up. Even though your dad has a back that hurts him, he says he will always pick you up. And he does.

Jack London Square, Briefly

Actually it is the SF Acadamy of Sciences and Jack London Square, briefly. It was a rainy day so we headed to the SF Academy. And so did a lot of other people. You fell asleep in the car on the way there, so we drove through the park a few times, it was quite beautiful, green green green. But saw the lines and decided to go to Jack London square to watch the trains. It was cold and rainy. We heard a train while we were unpacking the car, but it was gone by the time we got out of the garage. I tried to put gloves on you, but you wanted no part of them and kept tearing them off. So, we went back to the car, found an Everett & Jones nearby and missed another train. We ate in the car facing the tracks in the hopes of seeing a train, but there was nothing more. On the car ride home, you took off your boots and socks and I tickled a foot. You giggled and offered your foot, "an' Papa" and the Papa ticked it and giggled and you offered it back to me, "an' Mama." Back and forth we went, driving through the rain, tickling your feet and listening to you laugh.

Scoop

Some words make you laugh for no particular reason. Scoop, windshield wipers, fog (pronounced with extra deep voice by the papa). Right now though, you are in the bath crying because your hair is being washed. And now it's over. Your dad sighs heavily. He says "I love the Jonas." And, "I know you want to lick the rag."

Eye Love You

Sometimes at night, when I am putting you to sleep, you look me close in the face and then press your forehead against one of my eyes. As the bright lights flash, I like to think that this is your attempt to give me a kiss, and not, to blind me.

Planes, Trains and Automobiles

We went to Bart yesterday and watched the trains for a little bit. The ticket agent was a little leery when I explained that the three of us only wanted to watch the trains and could we please get in without paying, but he let us in and we watched. It was Daly City Bart, so it was fairly busy for a weekend. It was a sunny, warm day and we could see the buses and taxis and cars below as well. Afterwards, we went to the tank museum, but all I could see with you running, hopping and spinning was an accident with all the sharp metal corners of the tanks. We walked to the little train and looked at the buildings which seemed to be falling into a state of disrepair, the toy staircase on one was collapsed and there were cobwebs and tiny bits of rust on the others. It seemed a little sad and it didn't feel right, so I wanted to leave. Your dad said okay, which was nice of him, since he could easily stay there all day. We went to eat and sat outside and you even managed to sit in the chair (albeit sliding back and forth and sticking your legs and part of your body through the sides) until we finished. We drove back and the sun was in your eyes, you covered your eyes with your hands like you do when you're hiding from us.

Boots

You love your rain boots. There is no doubt about that. You point them out to strangers and say the word "boots", with the "oo" given extra emphasis. You ask for them when you wake up and I think you'd wear them to bed if we let you. As it is, Vika has voiced her objections. I told her we were looking for a replacement pair of boots and we were. I bought two new pairs, one a pair of cowboy boots and the other a ridiculously expensive pair of Ugg boots. You were mildly interested in them at first, but when you couldn't put them on yourself, you wanted the old boots. So, old boots it is. When we went to the zoo and you were able to splash in the puddles, I believe you were the envy of several other normal-shoe-wearing children whose dad told them that, no, they could not do that. But, we could. Oh yes, we could. Those wonderful blue rain boots with their little soccer balls. They make your feet a little stinky by the end of the day, but they make you happy so I think that more than evens out.