He’s going to be tough.

In chronological order:

George plays a game where I hold him up to every window in the house and we look for kitties. We think he is falling in love with this dog he calls Kitty.

Della can pretend her way through hard times. She will say things like, “I have an idea! Maybe these Cheerios can pretend to be Fruit Lips (Froot Loops)!” Or I will say something like, “No, we can’t go to Chuck E Cheese, but maybe we can pretend to go there!” And she is fine with that.

George puts on a little police vest that they have in the dress-up pile at daycare and he wears it all day long. If anyone else tries to wear it, he gets pissed. At home, there have been LOTS of fights over these sparkly shoes.

This was a few days ago. It’s been snowing a lot.

This was on another snowy day this week, when daycare opened late and the kids had to come to my office.

This was today at Target. Based on history, I could not believe this.

This is what we got at Target. Within an hour it had been repurposed.

This is when Della used pink food coloring as chapstick. 

This is Della after we tried to wash it off.

Also, Della asked Steve if she would ever be 2 again. He told her no.

We discovered that George likes to dress up. Also discovered that George seems sweeter and more forgivable in a dress.

I can’t believe I’m 3.

What can you say about a 3-year-old girl who had a birthday party? That she got a power drill. And a village. That she loves princes and princesses. And Octonauts. And tea.

This has been the scene of so many birthday parties, I don’t even need to take pictures. But I did.

Expectations were low. I only hoped that no one would get norovirus. Like they did last year. And the year before that.

This is George in his usual stance. He heard me talking about weaning and cried for two hours. (Did you see this picture of George at the museum?)

Some serious negotiations related to auto repair. If only Adrian could help us pass our safety inspection.

Our 7-year-old ninja nephew. Very sneaky.

Very safe.

And now, Annie does an interpretive balloon dance.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

I told Della, when you’re 3, you won’t suck your thumb anymore. She woke up this morning and said: “I’m 3! And look, I cannot suck my thumb!” Then she stuck her thumb in her mouth and looked confused.

Still jet laggy and talking kind of funny, Scott/Lizzie/Annie came out for a Back-to-Normal overnight party. Annie introduced Della to the “ice cocktail,” and now Della looks like a lush in every photo. 

Great because we were trying to get her to stop talking about beer and wine at school. Now we can just give up on that.

Annie preferred not to pose for a traditional group photo.

Here she is reading us a bedtime story about the time when Princess Sophia had a sleepover with princesses and common girls and everybody got in a fight.

It was hard to get them to sleep. But after a hundred cuddles and stories and goodnight kisses, they drifted off.

And then Annie went to sleep with Scott and Lizzie, and Della saw a monster and climbed in our bed.

The next day after nap, Della woke up crying for Annie.

Today was warm and sunny. I explained to Della that we were going to have brunch at Episcopal and that brunch was a mix between breakfast and lunch. She said, “OH!! And he is scary and he comes down and he takes the Christmas tree and he doesn’t like Christmas!”

George had no response. When he does talk, Della says things like, “He’s singing in Spanish!” 

Next up: Della turns 3. It’s confusing to everyone that this will be happening on a Twos-day. 

Annie returned home last night after five months of scholarship in Northern Ireland, which we are told is not so culturally different from the USA, circa 1995. Della, influenced by the fierce sister love of Disney’s Frozen, has come to think of Annie as her sister from another mister. For all these five long months, Della has been saying things like, “Annie is MY sister” and “My sister never hurts me.”

One time I visited Della’s school and read to the kids a book about transportation.

Me: Look, it’s a plane! Where do you think the plane is going?
Della: Ireland! To see my sister!
Me: Okay, how about this boat?
Della: Ireland!
Me: Where is the bus going?
Della: Ireland!
Me: Buses actually can’t go all the way to Ireland because buses can’t go on water. So let’s think of somewhere else the bus could go.
Della: Ireland!
etc., etc.

(At the time, Della was not aware of the difference between Ireland and Northern Ireland. Of course now we’ve talked about it, and she understands everything.)

Speaking of Northern Ireland, they really wear these hats there all the time.