2.4 or, How much is too much?

Dear Miriam,

July was busy and fun.  The whole Thorne/Spencer side of the family came to visit, which was great.  You had never met Uncle Scott, and we had never met Cousin Sebastian.  So at least we all managed to finally get in the same room.  We got to do some fun things while they were here.  We all went up to the Tar Pits, and down to Cabrillo Aquarium.  We went swimming in the hotel pool, and had big family dinners.  It was very nice to see them all.  I hope we're able to do that at least once a year.

You grew noticeably this month, which means that you've actually outgrown some of your shorts.  I realized the other day that Corbin has been wearing the same shorts for three years now, partly because he stopped wearing diapers during that time, which effectively shrunk his waistline.  I wonder if the same thing will happen with your wardrobe, too.  I also realized that neither of you has worn a pair of long pants for months, either, except on your trip to WI and MI.  I guess that's life in CA for you.

We gave up on barrettes for your hair and tried head bands.  Then we gave up on those and went with the top knot.  We'll claim it's because of your Asian heritage.

Your camping trip left you with predictably terrible bed time habits.  You think it's perfectly reasonable that we should just hang out in your room with you all night.  One night, at 2:30am, you tried to convince me that I should just sleep on your floor.  We had just started to get you back into a good routine when you went down to San Diego for a few nights.  So it goes.

We got a new slide this month, which you really like.  As soon as I walk in the door from work, you give me a big hug and then say, "Can we play outside on the playground?"  You climb all over it, and have great fun telling me which hole to peek through while you're inside.  Your animals climb all over it, too, which is funny.

We had this conversation this month:

Me: [singing] "How much is that doggie in the window? I do hope that doggie's for sale."
You: How much is that kitty in the window.
Me: [sings kitty version]
You: How much is that fish in the window.
Me: [sings fish version]
You: How much is that floor lamp in the window.
Me: ....Let's go outside and play.

Love,
Mom

The thumb nail coming off:

Your new hair style:

Helping Grandpa do the dishes:

Helping Dad fix the computer:

5.5 or, Would you like strawberries with that?

Dear Corbin,

July was an eventful month!  It started with a visit from the Thorne/Spencer side of the family.  Grandma and Grandpa, Aunt Erin and Uncle Scott and all the cousins came out for almost a week.  It was so nice to see them all.  We had never even met Cousin Sebastian yet, and Uncle Scott hadn't met Miriam, either.  All of you had fun playing together, which was nice.

They stayed at a near-by hotel, so we were able to go swimming in the hotel pool a couple of times.  We took them up to the La Brea Tar Pits and down to the Cabrillo Aquarium and beach.  We had big dinners at the house, and one dinner out.  The Spencers went down to San Diego for an overnight visit with some of Uncle Scott's relatives.  Overall, it was really good, and I hope we're able to do it again soon.  With all of you kids being close in age, it makes for a fun time.

Over that same time period, we closed on the sale of our house in Minneapolis.  The adults were really, really happy to have that happen, but I didn't want to talk about it very much.  You have said several times that you missed our house and wanted to go live in it again.  I felt like making too much of the sale might actually be a sad point for you.  I wonder how much you'll remember of our life in Minneapolis when you're grown.  I wonder if you'll ever live in the Midwest again and find it all strangely familiar.

What was definitely familiar is the little slide that we bought from a neighbor.  We left our with some neighbors in Minneapolis, but Miriam needed something to monkey around on.  You are too big for it, really, but it will be all right until we get into a house with a bigger back yard and can get something better.  Like a parkour course, maybe.

I found you some new books this month.  I'm trying to upgrade the level of non-fiction in your library, to something past 1979 and 1980.  I've found one used bookstore near us, and it's not a very good one, but they did happen to have a couple of the more recent Eyewitness encyclopedia books.  I bought the ones about the Seashore and Mammals.  I did not buy the one about Forensic Science.  A few more years of not dissecting things would be fine with me.

Dad did some electronic and automotive dissecting this month.  He put a new drive in the living room computer, and tracked down a short in the wiring harness of the motorcycle.  You are always interested in that kind of thing, so I usually try to make sure you can get in on the fun.  Even if it's just reading the display on the volt meter.  I want you to grow up to be willing to take things apart and see how they work.  Hopefully you'll learn to put them together again.

You put together your own sandwich one day.  It was salami and provolone with mayo and strawberries.

And then you ate it.

The whole thing.

*shudder*

The last week of the month, you took a short trip to San Diego.  You went down with Grandma and Grandpa Lam and stayed in a hotel with a Lazy River swimming pool.  You thought floating around was great fun, until you got doused by one of the waterfalls.  You tried to swim around it, but instead you went right under.  You also got to visit Uncle Alex's house and see the chickens, which you thought was pretty neat.  And, while you were gone, I saw a house that I liked, which was a nice way to end the month.

Love,
Mom

Helping Dad fix the computer:

At the aquarium with Charlotte and Family:

At the park with Carter and Family:

Helping Dad work on the motorcycle:

5.4 or, There and Back Again

Dear Corbin,

You spent most of June on a long camping trip with G&G Lam.  It was the first trip in their new RV.  You were excited when you were leaving, and you were excited to come home.  When you got home you told me, "I'll never leave you again!"  Which all of your adults agreed would probably not last past middle school, but I appreciate the sentiment none the less.

Your first week was spent driving to Madison.  It was so hot in Arizona and Texas that you could barely play outside.  Then you drove through tornado weather in Kansas and Missouri and Iowa.  I kept calling Grandma to make sure that you hadn't been blown away to Oz.  Your stay in Madison was very nice, seeing lots of friends and getting to play with some other kids.  Then you drove up to Menominee, which was so full of mosquitoes that, again, you couldn't play outside.  You did manage to have some fun catching bugs, and visiting with Aunt Cele and Uncle Russ, but Grandma and Grandpa decided that it was a better idea to come home early.  It was a very disappointing part of the trip, especially for Grandma, who thought she would have a whole other week with her family.  Hopefully we'll be able to visit again and have a better experience.

On your way home, you drove through severe weather again.  That was one of the biggest reasons I was glad when you were back.  You stopped at Mr. Rushmore and the Corn Palace, but they weren't very fun.  The really fun stops were at Wall Drug and Bryce Canyon.  The place you didn't want to leave was Devil's Tower.  You thought it was pretty awesome.  We'll have to go back when we can do the big hike around the base.

The biggest change while you were away was that Dad got his motorcycle license and bought a motorcycle.  He gets home much earlier, now, which was the point of the whole exercise.  It's always nice when a plan works out.  You were interested at first, but it became mundane fairly quickly.  Which is good--it will be just fine if you do not end up as a motorcycle rider.  Learning to drive a stick shift, on the other hand, is definitely something I want you to do.

Dad and I went and looked at more houses while you were gone, but we didn't see any that we wanted to buy.  So we've doubled our search now, to include houses for rent, with the idea that we might just find a better house to rent for a few years.  Grandma was hoping we would find a new place while you were gone, but it's still a slow process.

So home didn't change much while you were away.  The pile of books on my dresser has grown, and some or your too-small clothing went to Goodwill.  And now we're all back to normal.  Or, as normal as this family ever gets.

Love,
Mom

2.3 or, Get Along Little Dogies

Dear Miriam,

You spent June on a long camping trip in G&G Lam's new RV.  You came home covered in mosquito bites and addicted to a cd of Little People Cowboy Tunes.

Your first week was spent on the road to Madison.  It was crazy hot in Arizona and Texas.  Then you drove through tornado weather in Kansas, Missouri and Iowa.  I keep watching the severe weather reports and calling Grandma to make sure you were all safe.  You spent a few days in Madison seeing lots of friends.  Then you drove to the UP to stay at the cottage for two weeks.

Unfortunately, the mosquitoes were so bad in Michigan that you couldn't be outside almost at all.  There was so much rain this spring that all the marsh land by the cottage was flooded, and about three years worth of mosquito eggs had hatched.  I'm sure the birds and bats were happy, but the humans were definitely not.  So, even though it broke Grandma's heart, you decided to leave for home a week early.

You stopped at some fun places along the way, like Wall Drug and Devil's Tower.  Other places, like Mt. Rushmore and the Corn Palace, were over-run with tourists and not very fun at all.  You got to see Bryce Canyon, and spent a night in Las Vegas.  But you were very, very happy to be home.

You gained weight this month, probably because of all that time spent sitting in the RV and having snacks whenever you wanted.  Some of them might even have been healthy.

You are a monkey on the go these days.  You love to run and climb.  You make us swing you around and carry you upside down.  You ask me to throw you on the bed and tickle you on the couch.  You do funny dances and funny walks.  The other day when I came home from work, you jumped up and down and screeched for a few minutes, and then ran off into the living room.  It was pretty much what I imagine life will a chimpanzee would be like.

On the other hand, I'm pretty sure a chimpanzee would not crawl up onto Grandma's lap and say, "Let's see what Marmaduke is up to today."  One morning when you were still tired and cranky, we had this conversation:

Me: Do you want some milk?
You: No.
Me: Okay, no milk.
You: Yes.
Me: Yes, milk?
You: I said no and yes.

While you were gone, Dad got his motorcycle license and bought a motorcycle.  I'm not sure exactly what Grandma told you before you got home, but we had this conversation:

You: That's the motorcycle.
Me: That's Dad's motorcycle.
You: I don't want to ride it.
Me: You don't want to ride it?
You: It's too dangerous.

I had sent a couple of new cds with Grandma for the trip, but you only wanted to listen to the cowboy songs cd.  Now you break out into choruses of, "Ki yi yippee yippee yay!" when you're playing, which I find really funny.  I suppose at some point I'll walk in and you and Grandpa will be watching The Good, the Bad and the Ugly instead of Tom and Jerry.

Love,
Mom

2.2 or, M

Dear Miriam,

You spent this month getting ready for your big camping trip by not eating.  I'm not sure if you've got some molars coming in and causing trouble, or if you're just on some kind of non-growth-spurt timing.  You existed this month on blueberries, peanut butter toast, and every now and then you'd eat a giant plate of whatever we were having for dinner.  That was always a pleasant surprise.  The strangest part was that you seemed to get heavier throughout the month.  Perhaps your body has discovered some kind of mutant way to get calories from watching Pooh videos.

You still love Pooh a lot.  I moved the Pooh story books from Corbin's room into your room, and now you like to read those at night.  The next time we move, it might be time to box up all the board books, now that you're getting into the longer picture books.  It will be hard to give those away.  Your clothes are easy for me to go through, and get rid of what you've outgrown.  But it's hard to imagine that we've outgrown Oh My Oh My Oh Dinosaurs or Goodnight Gorilla.  I did realize that you don't have any of the non-fiction books in your room that Corbin does, so we might have to find you some.  I would just put the Charlie Brown encyclopedias in your room, but Grandma said she would rather have ones that were more fun.  We'll see what we can find.

Your hair has grown long enough that you've started shoving it out of your eyes.  So we started making you wear barrettes or bobby pins. Sometimes you leave them in very nicely, and sometimes we end up with them in our pockets.  I'm looking forward to when it's long enough to do pony tails.  It's still curly, so I think you'll look awfully cute.

We spent Mother's Day weekend up at Lake Arrowhead.  My work had put together a small conference, and I got offered a spot when someone had to cancel.  I didn't actually do any work; we spent our time playing at the lake shore and swimming in the pool.  You didn't have your swimming suit on when we walked down to the lake, but that didn't stop you (or Corbin) from wading in.  You weren't too wet, until you lost your balance and sat down.  Then we had to send Dad back to the room to get towels and dry clothes.  We did put your suit on before we went to the pool, of course.  You had fun jumping off of the steps in your swim ring and making me float you back over so you could do it again.  After a while, we got cold and went to sit in the hot tub.  I let you sit on the very top step, just to get you warmed up.  When I made you get out and go back to the room for a nap, you were not at all pleased.  I think you convinced several college students to never have children.  The worst part of the weekend was when you got car sick coming down the twisty mountain roads.  I made the mistake of letting you have a drink of juice, and then had to clean it all off your car seat.  I told your dad it was one more reason I didn't want to live on a mountain.

It was Grandma's birthday this month, so we got to open presents and have cake.  After our birthdays last month, you went around telling everyone Happy Birthday! all the time.  You still seem a little confused about the whole blowing out candles thing, too.  Then Corbin tried to show you how to lick the frosting off the bottom of the candle, but you ended up taking a bite of the wax instead.  That did not impress you, but you were happy when you got your piece of cake.

Having your portraits taken again also did not impress you.  Dad and I decided that next time, we're just going to put you in a Cure t-shirt.  Now go look up The Cure.  You're welcome.

Love,
Mom

Self portrait with Mom:

Muddy girl:

You told me, "I'm ice skating on the fly swatters!"

Right before you took a bite of the candle:

Checking out the RV before our test drive:

Packing up to go:

Off to adventure!