Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Shepard Thomas, Conversationalist, Alphabet Consultant

Shepard is actually a great dinner companion. Here he is not actually eating, per se, but he is more than holding up his end of the bargain, bursting into song, laughing at my jokies . . . what a guy.

Gravity, or Imminent Peril

Few childhood joys parallel the thrill of jumping of a high surface onto a bean bag. And few offer their parents such corresponding terror. Half of Shepard's flair is that he appears to care not a whit where he lands. The other half is that he claps for himself.

Olivia Thomas, Latke Elf

Olivia's classmate Theo invited his mom to school in to conduct a latke making lesson. Olivia, being my child, got all fired up about replicating these at home. Since they also, in the thinnest way possible, arch *toward* my own family heritage, I thought it would be a great idea. It turns out that we had surplus elf hats on our hands, courtesy of Geoff Wagg, Head Elf, Midatlantic Region. Behold the melange of yuletide cheer and shredded potatoes.

Monday, January 21, 2013


We take no credit for Shepard's eating fervor. That all goes to Pollywog Pond, his school, where Kasia the Owner/Organic Meal Fairy comes down from the kitchen with things like Barley Berry Casserole and Split Pea Soup and apparently the six weelings eat with great delight and fervor. Also: Shepard loves yogurt, it seems . . . EXCEPT for that unexpected bottom part.

Thursday, November 8, 2012

Handholding (with a strong undercurrent of tension)

I'm not going to lie. On weekend mornings my children turn into insane, sibling-taunting, whining-screaming MANIACS unless they get outside before 9. Here, I have liberated them and they seem to be turning things around, though Olivia's "guidance," not surprisingly, teeters right on the edge of "torment." Judge ye yourself.

Incomprehensible Friend Language

This may go down in history as one of my favorites. Ella, Olivia's partner in crime and across-the-street neighbor, sometimes peeps out the street-side window, spots her friend, and then does some kind of signaling that they have a playdate soon. Here is how Olivia responded. I have no words.

The "Please" Face

Early(er) in his life, I taught Shepard the wrong sign for "please." It involved putting his hand near his face. Later the hand fell away, but the earnest "please' face remained. Here is a mild version of it. I will try to capture a stronger one before he remembers to say the word consistently and then it disappears.