Around this time last year, Paulette came up with the idea of taking the kids down to Mt St Helens as a kind of family field trip. Alex's school has the kids do show-and-tell, and encourages them to talk about things that start with the "sound of the week" -- that would be the letter of the week, but that's not how they teach reading at his school, they teach sounds -- and the letter V (or, rather, the sound V) was a few weeks away. Paulette's idea was that we could see the volcano one day, and then spend the rest of the weekend visiting friends in Portland, OR and hitting the Saturday Market.

A side note about the Portland Saturday Market: ten summers ago, some friends from my Cornell days and I converged on Portland for a mini-reunion that we have every year (each year in a different city), and we went to the Saturday Market as part of our weekend. While there, I saw a photographer's exhibit that was simply breathtaking, and I very much wanted to buy one of his custom-framed prints. It was amazing. But, I was also only two months away from getting married, and I wanted to make sure that Paulette wouldn't mind me blowing a big wad of cash on a piece of art just before we dropped an even bigger wad of cash on our wedding.

As it turned out, she and I have very similar tastes in art, but since we'd never really acquired any art up to that point, I wanted to clear it with her. The photographer didn't believe in having business cards -- he said he never sold any of his work by using them -- so I figured I'd just run back down to Portland to pick up his stuff on some future weekend.

I've never seen him at the Portland Saturday Market since then, but whenever I'm down there, I always look. I don't know his name. But I know I'd recognize his work if I ever saw it again. It was that amazing.

Anyway, circumstances interfered with the Mt St Helens trip last year, but this year, we made it happen... and, just in time for hitting the letter 'V' again this year. Or the sound, 'V'. Whatever. Paulette and I bundled up the kids in the minivan for what is expected to be our last family adventure together before the anticipated arrival of Baby 3.0.

We left after work on Friday, April 18th. Let me make a comment about April in the Seattle area: it never snows. At least, there's no record of snow accumulating in Seattle after April 1st. In late April, the tulips are already in bloom, and most of the trees have already flowered if not grown their leaves. As we were getting ready to leave, I had to snap a photo of the blanket of snow threatening our tulips. Crazy, crazy.

We drove down to a town near Mt St Helens; the plan was to make a hotel there our base of operations and we went back and forth between points Washington and Oregon. The hotel was ready and waiting for us, we all got a good night's sleep, and had a pleasant breakfast before heading off to the visitor center at Mt St Helens.

The lava caves we had hoped to visit were closed due to snow. In fact, so were just about all of the vantage points except for the main visitor center, which was far enough away from the mountain that the snowfall (it was still snowing) made it impossible to see. There was a little movie about the big eruption in 1980, and a scale model of the volcano and surrounding area that you can walk through. Nolan loved that part, while Alex preferred the movie.

We had a good visit at the center, but I was nonetheless a little disappointed that we didn't get the see the volcano.

After a refreshing dip in the pool and hot tub at our hotel (Nolan and Alex both absolutely love swimming. However, Nolan is still learning, so the hot tub was more agreeable to him because he could stand on the bench seats and didn't have to worry about actually swimming swimming), we headed down to Portland to visit with our friends Bjorn and Kirsten.

We had a fantastic evening. Excellent conversation, excellent food at a local Italian restaurant that was kid friendly, more excellent conversation, and just an all-around agreeably relaxing time was had by all. I've been a little out of sorts lately, and there's nothing like a pleasant evening with old friends to put one's mind at ease.

I must mention (if you haven't visited the link already to Bjorn's site) that Bjorn has an airplane named Superboy. In fact, if I recall correctly, Alexander's first plane ride was in Superboy. Bjorn loves to fly, and he told us he'd be happy to take us for a look at Mt St Helens if the weather for the next day turned out to be as good as the forecast claimed.

Although we have a lot of friends in Portland and surrounding areas, we ended up not making any other plans for the weekend, since we weren't sure how the kids would do on the trip. Sunday morning, we went to Saturday Market (I love saying that -- "Sunday, at the Saturday Market..."), and Alex was pretty obviously not happy to be dragged around while his parents wanted to look at the artsy-fartsy stuff on display. I did not find the photographer I'd been looking for these past ten years, nor did I expect to, but I can still hope that someday I'll bump into him again.

We had an appropriate lunch (Mmmm... outdoor market food) and then phoned Bjorn to see if he was still up for a plane ride. Silly me. The boys love airplanes, and Bjorn loves to fly. The weather was cooperating, so *of course* everyone was up for a ride.

Bjorn was so gracious with the kids. He had Alex help out by checking the fuel and plugging in the rear headsets. The plane may not look big, but it was able to hold me (and I'm pretty big) and Paulette (who is flying for two) and Nolan in the back seat, while Alex flew shotgun in the co-pilot's chair.

As it so happened, we flew up into a big bevy of clouds, but we found a hole that enabled us to get up above the cloud cover. ("Why not just fly through the clouds?" "Because the temperature up here is below freezing, and the plane would ice up very quickly if we tried.") At this point, it became obvious that we might see nothing but overcast skies (well... undercast, I guess, since we were above the clouds) blanketing the mountain, but what the heck, we were already in the air. So, we headed to Mt St Helens to see what we could see.

Keep in mind, just getting the boys up for a flight made for a wonderful time, and Paulette and I enjoyed sitting next to each other in the cozy back seats. But if we could actually get some snapshots of the mountain while we were there, well... so much the better. In fact, I should make this point if it hasn't become obvious already: Mt. St. Helens was the McGuffin for our trip. It was the excuse; it was not the reason. The reason was to get us out as a family, enjoying some different scenery and different settings. The goal was to leave work and the daily chores behind for a little while. That said....

Miles and miles of big, white, fluffy clouds rolled by beneath us while Alex enjoyed being the co-pilot and Nolan played with his trains. Then we saw a break in the clouds, near where the volcano should be, and lo and behold... Wow, what a view. We were so close to the crater, we could see the plumes of steam roiling up into the air. (For those who don't know, the volcano is still active... it's just not erupting at present.)

We snapped our photos. Alex would have some neat print-outs for his show-and-tell that week. All-in-all, though, it was just cool the way the weekend all came together. We had some pleasant quiet time as a family, enjoyed a soothing, low-key visit with gracious friends, and then had a private tour of a snow-capped volcano. A magically delicious weekend.

If a picture's worth a thousand words, let me leave you with this:

When I was in college, I took up foil fencing. I suspect that this may be where I picked up the habit of occasionally announcing "Touche!" whenever someone gets me with a good play in cards or some other friendly competition. (I might also have picked this habit up as a result of a line from a Smothers Brothers routine, in which Tommy says, "Touchy, touchy", to which his brother response, "Touche, Touche.")

Alexander (all of five and a half years old) and I have been playing Crazy Eights in the evenings, and he asked me what it means when I say, "Touche!" after he plays something that I can't match. I explained the concepts of announcing a good hit or acknowledging a good rejoinder.

So, imagine my surprise when we were playing cards earlier this evening, and Alex played a queen and said, "Queen Shay!" And then, when he played a six, and said, "Six Shay!"

Dude cracks me up.

These days, many (if not most) programs that teach readin' and writin' start with a phonics approach. "Sound it out," is the name of the game.

Paulette and I read to the kids each night, and Alex has been particularly interested in the "Frog and Toad" books. In one of the stories, Toad makes a "To Do" list for the day:

• Wake up
• Eat Breakfast
• Go see Frog
• Go for walk with Frog
• Etc., etc.

After Alex had had this read to him a couple of nights in a row, he decided one morning that he should make a To Do list. He asked for paper, and began to write his list. The first item was something like "Wyk up", which ain't bad.

His babysitter was coming over that day, so on his list he wrote, "Gooleu".

You see, "G" can make a hard "guh" sound, as in "gutter", but it also makes a soft "j" sound, as in gist.

"Oo", of course, as in "moo".

"L" needs no introduction.

"E" can make a long "ee" sound, as in "me".

"U", naturally, sounds like "uh", as in "umbrella".

And therefore, Gooleu is his babysitter, Julia.

I'm not sure of whom I'm more proud: Alex, for his giant leap forward in writing skills at the tender age of four and a half, or Paulette, who could actually explain to me what he had written.

:-)

Alex is just a few weeks away from being four-and-a-half years old. Yikes!

He continues to enjoy his school, where he is making huge leaps forward in his math skills and in writing. He has already composed his first short story (he drew a picture of a train and dictated a four-sentence description of what was about to happen to it to his teacher, who wrote the story down), complete with action, adventure, and daring-do. But rather, when I refer to his writing, I'm more talking about his ability to draw numbers and letters -- he can write his name legibly, and it gets clearer and clearer all the time. Various exercises in school involve writing numbers and adding them up, which he's doing with amazing clarity.

The biggest kick for me, as far as his schooling is concerned, is that *he* is now starting to read to *me*. Oh, sure -- not much. The first story he read to me was "Fat Cat". As I'm sure you can imagine, Fat Cat isn't so much a story as it is a series of sentences that build upon each other. Fat Cat is sad. Fat Cat is glad. Fat Cat sat. That kind of thing. But it's a pure joy to watch and listen to him puzzle out some parts and breeze past others and correct mistakes. Words can not convey the pride I feel as he shows me newly developed skills on almost a daily basis.

Alex continues to be quite a talker, and very articulate at that. It seems that his favorite hobby is explaining things (which, I fear, is almost certainly more an imitation of me than of his mother) -- gesturing emphatically with his hands and varying his vocal pitch in an exaggerated sing-songy way, complete with dramatic pauses and head-bobbing counterpoints.

He is increasingly self-sufficient, as when he assembles his breakfast by himself (ranging from peanut butter on crackers to cereal with milk, et al).

Like his younger brother, Alex is showing an increasing interest in the space shuttle. We were going to a Christmas party this past weekend and made sure they had a computer with internet connection available for him to watch the shuttle launch, which was scheduled to happen during the party; he had been *most* disappointed when the previously scheduled attempt had to be delayed due to inclement weather, and he didn't want to miss this one.

(That said, he was still quite social before and after the launch. Alex likes parties, even the kinds that are mostly meant for grown-ups.)

We try not to over-schedule our kids' time, which means we try to only have one or two "classes" a week outside of school. Right now, Alex is taking swimming, and he's enjoying it a great deal. He is already able to swim from one side of Redmond's municipal pool to the other. Paulette and I are inclined to eventually sign up both of the boys for gymnastics, but we don't want to over schedule them, either, and we don't want to take Alex away from swimming just now. We'll have to see how that all plays out. One thought is that we'll introduce gymnastics once school is done for the summer break.

In the meantime, we're not letting the cool, dark winter nights keep us cooped up in the house. Paulette brings the kids to the children's museum or the acquarium or the like on a regular basis, and we occasionally dine out as a family (where Alex can be quite well-behaved, especially if we keep the meal from going too long).

It's been almost four and a half years since Alex came into our lives, and he still continues to inspire and amaze me. Raising him and Nolan is proving to be a most excellent adventure.

The secret to success in comedy, according to Steve Martin, is

timing. Now, I've been meaning for years to remark upon Seattle's self-proclaimed number one television newscast and their penchant for always leading the news with something weather related. I first moved to the area sometime in -- oh, I don't know, 1995?

And I first started maintaining my blog (originally known as an "online journal", since the term "blog" hadn't yet been pimped at the time) a year or three after that. All the while, I've been kicking around the idea of pointing out this silly habit of the Seattle infotainers to lead off their alleged news broadcasts with talk about the weather.

And here it is, years later, and I finally get around to mocking these guys, and what happens? Their silly report about snow just south of Canada actually presages an actual weather emergency for the area. Okay, it's a minor weather emergency compared to many that I've been through (blizzards, cold snaps, tornados, etc.), but it's still relatively nasty. The entire Puget Sound area has been pretty much shut down for this entire week so far, and there have been a few weather-related fatalities.

While we were only hit with a dusting of snow both where I live and where I work, the hilly roads and the dearth of any kind of heavy equipment to clear the roads has left a treacherous ice field between home and office. That doesn't stop me, of course -- I grew up in Buffalo, NY, where winter driving is one long, controlled skid, and besides, my current vehicle is an All Wheel Drive minivan (I'm *so* Seattle Yuppie) -- but it nonetheless means I actually have to pay attention while I drive. And that's tres un-Seattle.

Luckily for me, everyone else is afraid of the weather, so they stay at home altogether. That means I get to skid my way down the ridge without having to worry too much that there'll be another car at the bottom to block my path. Whee!

The kids are already blase about the whole deal. Oh, sure, the first morning, they wanted to get out and play in the snow. But when Alex learned that there wasn't enough snow to even make so much as one lame snowball, he was pretty much done. Nolan seemed to enjoy the change in scenery, but otherwise didn't know what to make of it all.

But while the kids have put it all into perspective by getting on with their lives, I'm happy to report that the local news station of record has not been so enlightened. Every single news story for the past week has been weather-related, and every single forecast has warned us that "things are going to get worse before they get better."

How many ways can you say, "Major employers in Seattle have decided to close their campuses?" Or, "People who drive too fast on the ice are getting into accidents?"

Watch the local news and count the ways.

A little while ago, I picked up a new digital camera. A year or two ago, when our friend Adrien came to visit, she brought along a camera and took some pictures that were just phenomenal. While having a skilled photographer and good lighting and a cooperative subject all come into play, having the right tool does help to get the job done. So, I eventually picked up a better camera, and the result has been that my occasional good shots are now better than they used to be.

When I get those really good quality shots, though, I hate to dumb them down by saving them in "economy mode" just so that my web page will load faster. So, thanks to my vanity of wanting to share these photos and my belief that increasingly, y'all are getting faster connections to the internet, I've decided to allow myself to post photos that run higher than 40K.

Well, okay. The one above is substantially more than 40K. I hope you'll forgive me.

I was taking care of the kids this past Thursday morning before heading into work, and Alex picked out the clothes he wanted to wear. Alex is into "matching" these days -- pointing out when the color of his socks match the color of his shirt, or of Nolan's shirt. or of my clothing, etc.

We make it easy on him, of course, by sticking pretty much to standard color themes. His shirts tend to be reds or blues, with a couple of outliers available for good measure. His pants and shorts are either blue or khaki. Socks similarly fall within a narrow color band, so it would be hard for him to pick clothes that clash.

But all that said, he does like to point out when things match. There is one shirt -- a blue "fish" hawaiian -- that we have in both his and in Nolan's sizes. On this particular Thursday, since Alex picked the shirt, I went ahead and put Nolan into a matching outfit. And then I felt like taking pictures.

The brothers remain good buddies. Nolan is a little bit crabby lately, as he copes with four molars coming in at once, but otherwise, we remain blessed with two beautiful, happy, healthy boys.

In my next post -- our first family movie outing since "Finding Nemo":

"Cars."

I've mentioned in the past that Alexander likes to be a big brother to little Nolan. Being a big brother is bringing out in him a tendency we'd noticed earlier -- that of occasionally being a "minder." It's interesting to watch this play out.

When I say that he can sometimes be a "minder," what I mean is that he will sometimes insist that other kids (or sometimes even his parents) follow The Rules. Here's an example from a few days ago: Alex and another kid are fighting over a toy at the playground. The parent of the other child is nowhere to be found -- these kinds of disputes don't seem to happen as frequently when parents of both children are present and attentive -- so I step over and announce to both kids that the toy is going to have a time out since they are unable to work it out between them. (I do not generally concern myself with "who started it" or "who was there first" unless there's an obvious bully -- that's all part of the negotiation process that the kids should/will work out.) The two eventually cease their fighting and move on to play elsewhere, this time more cooperatively.

Then a third child arrives at the playground and proceeds to play with the toy that had previously been in dispute. "No!" says Alex. "That has a time out!" He doesn't physically interfere, but his own toy is forgotten while he keeps insisting that the newcomer leave the first toy alone.

(And no, Daddy doesn't let that continue.)

He is not generally bossy, but rather he *occasionally* finds it appropriate to reiterate The Rules. In play situations, I haven't seen many other kids his age do this (although there've been a few), and I'm sure that all kids probably do this from time to time, albeit situationally. But what I find particularly interesting is how this Minder behavior is more pronounced in Alex with regard to his little brother.

Around the house lately, if we tell Nolan to do (or not do) something -- be it to play more gently with Mommy's Waterford crystal or to stop banging on the walls with Daddy's good claw hammer -- Alex repeats the command almost instantly and at least twice as loud. If Alex spies Nolan doing something that he (Alex) knows neither of them should be doing (like, say, drinking the Clorox), he'll immediately jump up and shout, "No, Nolan!"

--this brings to mind the one drawback that we'd considered about giving Nolan his name. A friend had suggested that with such a name, she wouldn't be able to help but call him "No-No Nolan." Because coming up with the name had been such a difficult process, we decided that it would be easier to get a new friend.

But I digress.

Regardless of whether this behavior of Alex's is typical for a big brother, I don't necessarily see anything bad about it. Granted, we do try to correct him -- as totalitarian dictators, we cannot have the proletariat believing that they are somehow part of the chain of command at Casa Rousselle, and Alex is too young to have read any Ayn Rand just yet, anyway. But it's interesting to see him experimenting with exerting authority within the confines of what he understands to be The Rules. Alexander may not always follow The Rules, but he's well aware of their existence.

And, insofar as Alex is in a "Why?" phase right now, it's also interesting to hear him volunteer explanations to his little brother. "No, Nolan! Don't pull on that! You could get hurt!"

As good exploitative parents, we have occasionally turned his Big Brotherness to our advantage. My apologies right now to non-parents who might be squeamish about such topics, but toilet training is an excellent example. During the toilet training process, closing the door is one of the activities of least concern. As Alexander is doing better with the other steps, however, we've been able to add this last step by invoking his role as a Minder:

"Hey, Alex, don't forget to close the door so that Nolan doesn't come in and play in the toilet water."

"Okay!"

Getting him to close the door out of politeness is a hit or miss prospect. But as a Big Brother, he's happy to do it out of concern for Nolan.

My entry here has been focusing on Big Brother as a keeper of The Rules, but to be fair, I need to mention that Alexander is a good brother all around. They play well together, and Alex is often offering to "help" Nolan with new tasks, such as opening presents, blowing out birthday cake candles, etc.

...and if there are any parallels here between Big Brotherhood and the role of government, I'm sure they are just coincidental.

Nolan Theodore Rousselle, as photographed February 14th, 2006.

Alexander Benjamin Rousselle, as photographed February 17th, 2003.

Brothers. Definitely Brothers.

The conventional wisdom shared by most folks I know is that small children understand more than we give them credit for.

I'm not inclined to agree. Three and a half years of up-close-and-personal observation convinces me that satire, irony, regret, and other somewhat complex concepts are simply not ready for primetime in the small child's world.

But memory? That's a completely different kettle of fish. Kids have an amazing memory. This stands to reason, of course: how else can they seem to learn language overnight, other than by storing away what they hear until they can figure it out, then pull it out and use it for themselves?

Alex recently showed a profound demonstration of just how sharp his memory is. The parents were otherwise occupied, and Alexander was looking for something to do. He slinked off and found his step stool from the downstairs bathroom and carried it over to the kitchen. There, he pawwed around the higher cabinet shelves until he located the face paint we'd bought for his halloween costume (and hadn't used).

But did he remember what it was and what it was for? Oh, yes he did. He took the face paint into the bathroom and proceeded to paint his face. And his hands. And his arms. Well, and the sink and the walls, too, but I don't think that was as intentional. He applied the paint so thick on himself, it looked like he was wearing rubber gloves up to his elbows.

After one parent noticed -- Hey! I've been having a nice long phone conversation without any interruptions! Hey! Wait a minute! -- Alexander was pretty much standing around waiting to be caught. There wasn't much mess to clean up aside from the child, himself, but the trick was to take advantage of the photo op without laughing and making Alex think it was all okay.

I'm guessing he understood.

Another recent event for the little guy was paying a visit to Mr Rogers' Neighboorhood. There is apparently a touring exhibit from the long-running television show, and it began a four-month long stint at the local children's museum. Among other things, they had a main room modeled after Mr Rogers' living room, complete with sweaters that the kids could try on. (They also had one of the original sweaters that had actually been worn by the late Fred Rogers, behind glass.) Alex tried on each of the sweaters in turn. In this photo, the maroon sweater looks more like a Hogwarts uniform on Alex than a sweater.

Alexander watches the show on a fairly regular basis. Aside from a few DVDs in our collection, the only television that he's allowed is Sesame Street, Mr Rogers, and something called Between the Lions. He already loves the children's museum, so this new exhibit was tres cool. Opening day events included a visit from Mr. McFeeley (sp?), a longtime resident of Mr Rogers' Neighborhood.

Now, I recall that the show was popular back when I was a kid, so that autmatically means the show has had a very, very long run. But they were showing an episode recently that came from the early seventies, and the letter carrier (postman? mailman? whatever they called him then) dude was on the show and talking about his *grandchild*. So, the dude was already getting on in years even then. And this guy is still making personal appearances thirty-plus years later. Pretty cool.

Mr. McFeeley still seems spry, and still has a boyish grin. Alexander enjoyed meeting him, although it's quite likely that the older generation got more of a kick out of seeing the Speedy Delivery guy than our child of the 'aughts.

[Nolan was there, too, but he's not so big on television just yet.]

Our oldest son continues to amaze with his ever-expanding articulateness, his increasing autonomy, and developing personality. He has a mind for mechanics, as he demonstrates by taking apart his toy airplane with his toy tools (literally -- the plastic bi-plane was designed with big plastic bolts so that it could be taken apart and re-assembled) and, occasionally, even putting parts of it back together. He likes to pull out his toy tools and mimic me when I work on projects around the house. His play, in general, continues to get more complex.

And as always (so far), he continues to look out for little brother.

Alexander: Nolan gave me the train!

Me: No he didn't. You took it from him.

Alexander: He gave me.

Me: I watched you take it from him. You reached over and grabbed it.

Alexander: He gave it to me!

Alexander: Where's Mommy?

Me: She's at work. She'll be home soon.

Alexander: Where's Nolan?

Me: He's here in bed. Let him sleep.

Alexander: NOLAN, WHERE ARE YOU?!?!

Nolan: WAHHHH!

Me: Shhh. Maybe we can still get him back to sleep.

Alexander: (jumping up and down on bed) NO! LAN! NO! LAN! NO! LAN!

Me: Thank you for making the world a better place through your cooperation.

When I was a young'un, my mother used to tell us kids how quickly time was flying by, and how much more quickly it seemed to fly by as we all got older. She was particularly fond of mentioning this as we approached the Christmas season, when I or my sib would express our desire for Christmas to hurry up and arrive.

But of course, I now have the opportunity to experience that exact phenomenon. Talk about time flying by quickly! The subject came up recently regarding how long Alexander had been sleeping in his own bed on a regular basis, and me realizing that we moved him to his "big boy bed" on New Year's Day (or thereabouts), 2005. Only a year ago. Heyyyy, wait a minute. A year ago? "Only" a year ago?!

Where did the time go? Where did 2005 go? It seems like just a few weeks ago we were worried about whether his potty training would be far enough along in time for him to start pre-school... and, well, that was months ago.

Baby is growing up fast. So many things we'd worried about -- sleep, potty, teething, pacifier, etc. -- are ancient history in a snap. Now we're dealing with questions like what we'll be looking for in a school for him, whether we should enroll him in a gymnastics class, that kind of thing. (More on the subject of education in another post, coming very soon.)

Alex is becoming increasingly articulate. Now when he describes his day at school, I can almost understand what he's saying. And when we picked out our Christmas tree this year, he made it very clear that "I want presents."

I believe I may have noted elsewhere that for the first year or two of his life, I referred to him as Alexander while his mother called him Alex. The shorter form of his name is winning out, as it's easier for his young friends to say and other moms follow Paulette's lead, not mine. No problem. So I've been calling him Alex lately. A day or two ago, he corrected me. "My name is Alexander."

"You want me to call you Alexander instead of Alex."

"Yyyyyup." (I think he got this particular speech mannerism from me.)

At school, there are two Alexes in his class, so our son is known as "Alex R.". Not much of a stretch from Alex R. to Alexander. And I'm pretty certain he remembers me calling him Alexander on a regular basis, even though it's been a while.

But back to time flying by in such a hurry--

I recently downloaded the pictures from our digital camera onto one of our computers, and we had only started taking pictures as we entered the Fall season. Images of him and Nolan in their Halloween outfits kicked things off. And here we are, now, having just passed by Thanksgiving and we are rushing at breakneck speed toward Christmas.

Zip, zip. Time zips by so fast that you could miss something important if you blink.

It snowed here toward the very end of November. Where we live, we typically get snow once or twice in a given winter, every other year. This time around, it fell (and stuck) for about three or four days. (As I write this, the snow has been gone for a little while.) Unfortunately for me, the snow days began while I was out of town on business -- Houston, where there was no snow to speak of.

This was good, big, wet snow. Excellent for snowball fights and making snow men. Paulette and Alexander made a couple of snowmen that first day, using up pretty much all of the snow that was available in our front yard at the time. She took photos for me to see -- this isn't the first time Alex has seen snow, but it is the first time he has actively participated in building a snow man.

I was lucky that by the time I returned, more new snow had fallen and Alexander and I had a chance to build a couple more snowmen. Way fun.

But these kids are growing up so fast! ... a fact that is driven home to me when Alex expresses his preference for me to call him Alexander.

For what it's worth, Alexander still enjoys being a big brother. Nolan still enjoys having Alex to play with him.

...but, where *do* they get their excellent taste in shirts?

Alexander continues to be quite the world explorer. He enjoys going to new places with his mom and dad (like in this shot at "Hurricane Ridge" on the Olympic Peninsula of Washington State), totally digs his outings at the zoo and the aquarium and the park, and continues to enjoy trains and planes and dinosaurs.

What with Halloween and various museum exhibits and various illustrations in dinosaur books, he has shown interest in skeletons and bones which we are encouraging. As he plays with "Bonz" -- a kind of erector set with plastic bones instead of beams and girders -- he's showing an aptitude for mechanical motion, as well.

Alex has an understanding of numbers. He can count up through ten (although six sometimes is missing from the line-up), he can display the correct number of fingers when he counts one through five, and he has even drawn the numbers six and seven on more than one occasion. He is happy to tell you that he turned "three" (and he knows that means "three years", even though he may not be so clear on what a year is, and he seems to forget that this event happened a while ago) and that his baby brother is "six" (and now often remembers to say "six months", although whether he understands the concept of month is also open for debate). He knows that six is more than three but that he is older than his brother. And he has recently decided that his mom is "seven".

His speech gets more interesting every day. He's experimenting with modifiers ("quite" is very popular right now, as in "That's quite silly!") and he loves to explain things to anyone who will listen.

Alex began attending pre-school this year, and we had our first parent-teacher conference just this past week. The teacher commented that he is very calm "for a first child"; that he is good about getting his things out and putting them away and he shows a longer attention span than is typical for three-year-olds. The teacher also noted that he seems to be very good with puzzles, and he shows more interest in letters than many three-year-olds.

These are good things for us to know, since we can hardly be objective when it comes to comparing Alex to others at his age group. He *is* learning his letters of the alphabet, but it's good to know that he's doing well with them to the point of being noticed by his teacher. As for puzzles (jigsaw and other physical puzzles) -- he has surprised both Paulette and me with how well he does with them.

Of course, skeptic that I am, I also realize that the teacher is going to highlight what he is doing well and not what he may be lagging at. I wouldn't expect to hear, "Your son is a bit of a dullard when it comes to numbers," or, "Alex says some pretty crazy shit. What language do you speak at home?"

When the teacher asked us if we had any goals for Alex in school, I mentioned "Just that he be able to read War & Peace all the way through by the end of the year." I swear, for maybe a half a moment, I was taken at my word.

"Really?"

I wanted to respond, "No, not really. The first chapter would suffice." But I was afraid that I'd be marked down as one of those overly aggressive parents who expect too much of their children. The teacher *was* taking notes, as we talked, and didn't seem to be sure that I was joking.

Do they have a way of linking your child's permanent record with that of your own? [shudder]

Story idea: Homeland Security gets its hands on everybody's "permanent records" from school. Hilarity ensues when they detain the protagonist at the airport upon learning that the protagonist once got into trouble for "accidentally" starting a small fire in Shop class in high school....

Paulette and I had a little bit of trepidation at first over how Alexander might receive his baby brother. Nolan arrived a mere three weeks after we moved into the new house, and Alex had already had to adapt to quite a bit of upheaval.

Fortunately, Alex took to his brother much more easily than he took to the new house. He is very affectionate and gentle with Nolan. He loves to make sure Nolan has a toy to play with, and he often goes up to Nolan and announces "Smiles! Smiles!" Whenever Paulette and the kids leave and I kiss Alex goodbye, he insists that I make sure to kiss Nolan goodbye, too. That kind of thing.

Perhaps the transition has worked easily with Alex, in part, because we make sure to spend a little bit of quality time just with him. When we go for our evening walks each day, Nolan (and Paulette) may or may not join us, but Alex leads the delegation. The bed time ritual, with reading and tooth brushing and changing clothes and all that, is one-on-one time between Daddy and Alex. Paulette, likewise, has a number of activities that are very much Alex-focused.

Nolan, to be sure, gets his own time with Mommy and Daddy. Nursing aside, Nolan gets Paulette's exclusive attention at bath time and in the early mornings and late evenings before Alex gets up and after Alex goes to bed. Nolan gets tummy time and air time and time to enjoy the mobile in his crib. He also ends up sleeping in our big bed most mornings after his 5am feeding. I don't get as much exclusive time with Nolan as I do with Alex -- very much to my chagrin -- but as my schedule gets a little more sane (which *is* happening), that, too, shall improve.

And as far as brotherhood goes, Nolan is absolutely fascinated by Alex. I'll often catch Nolan staring at me or at his mother intently, but even more frequently he'll focus all of his attention upon his older brother. When the television happens to be on for Alex (we're not really putting anything on for Nolan just now), Nolan studies Alex, not the TV.

I realize that what is happening now has no real bearing on how the future will play out. Paulette and I both grew up with siblings and our respective relationships with the sibs have varied wildly over time. Continue to vary. I'd like to think that we both currently enjoy good, healthy relationships with our sibs as adults, but there've certainly been some interesting rough patches along the way. I harbor no illusion that today's affection means that Alex will never have any issues with his younger brother, and visa versa. But we'll continue to encourage Alex's being a good big brother, and we'll continue to give both of them attention separately as well as together.

I'm fascinated to watch how all of these dynamics develop.

July 20th marked Alex's third birthday, and we celebrated in much the same way as we did his previous two birthdays: a quiet outing with friends at a neighborhood park.

A dear friend who lives in Canada and who was among the first to meet Alex came down and presented him with a couple of "I Spy" books, which he absolutely loves. If you have any kids near the age of three, or are otherwise inclined to purchase a gift for a three-year-old-ish child, I heartily recommend I Spy. They are coffee table books with large photos of small items that make for wonderful pattern-recognition games. And anything that helps foster a love of books can't be bad.

In addition to inviting friends of ours and Alex that go back to early play groups and the like, we also invited neighborhood moms and dads and kids we have recently started to get to know. Most showed up, much to our delight, and there was plenty of cake and lemonade to go around. These are the kids Alex is likely to go to school with and grow up with for the foreseeable future, and I'm happy to report that they all seem like a great bunch, with parents who are like-minded with Paulette and me.

A couple of weeks after his birthday, Alexander went with Nolan for his three-year (and Nolan's four-month) checkup. The doctor reports that Alexander is no longer at the very lowest end for his age group of height and weight, which makes Mom and Dad breathe a big sigh of relief. He's still on the small and light side of normal, but the doctor is happy with his progress and is no longer worried for his health (as was the case, at one point a little while ago).

There are several photos I've taken that I've refrained from posting here because of how skin-and-bones Alex can sometimes appear. This is not for lack of us making food available to him. He's just not interested in food. Good news for him in the future, I'm sure (if my own weight issues are any indication), but at this young age it's important that his body have the raw materials needed to make growing bones and muscles and all that.

Alex continues to have a healthy interest in trains and planes. A month or so ago, we all drove down to a tree-harvesting museum which featured a train tour of a 1910's logging camp. Naturally, Alex loved the train ride while his parents enjoyed the historical tidbits.

Given the terribly long hours and hard (not to mention dangerous) conditions that loggers worked under at the beginning of the last century, it amazes me that they would opt for that kind of work at all. As mentally exhausting as I sometimes find my own job, I'm living and working in the lap of luxury compared to many. As a history major, I am often amazed at people who complain about how "everything is getting worse." Au contraire. Everything is getting better. We may not have attained utopia or paradise, but we're doing a farsight better than previous generations.

My parents visited us recently, as well, and we took Alex to the Boeing Museum of Flight. My father is a pilot, and so it was an opportunity for all of the three generations to enjoy displays that likewise spanned the generations. As with the logging museum, I'm sure we all took away different appreciations from the experience. Like my father, I hope one day to earn my pilot's license. It's nice that the three of us -- dad, me, and my oldest son -- can all share this appreciation for flight, even if we all do so at a different level. I look forward to taking Alex along on a flight with his grandpa piloting before too long.

Encouraged by Alex's continuing interest in planes, Paulette suggested that we attend the Arlington Air Show that was held here not too long ago. I was pleasantly surprised to notice during our day-long outing that Paulette was every bit as interested in the show and the exhibits as Alex or myself. I get the impression that she might be looking forward to the time when we can take trips as a family in something other than a commercial (read: inconvenient) flight. She has also become more aware of airplane-related news.

Learning to fly is still a little ways off in my future. I've got other bills to pay and other demands on my time to meet. But the circumstances of my life seem to support the notion that we are moving in that direction.

In addition to trains and planes, Alex continues to be excited by books (of which we have plenty, and are always getting more) and... dinosaurs. Is anybody out there aware of a dinosaur petting zoo where we might take Alex?

Taken earlier this month when Paulette and kids treated me to a picnic lunch break:

Between Nolan being on an inversed schedule -- sleep all day and stay up feeding (or, if not feeding, crying to be fed) all night -- and Alex's recurring homesick blues (he likes the new house, but is confused that we haven't returned "home", and so his insecurity at night has ratcheted up a bit), nobody's getting much sleep at Casa Rousselle.

That doesn't stop us from generally doing well during the day. I've been getting back to some level of productivity at work (although, when I tried to kick caffeine a few weeks ago, that was *definitely* the wrong week to try that).

Even Alex is getting into the "professional" act. We went to have our taxes prepared at a certain national chain a couple of weeks ago (just before Nolan arrived), and our appointment was late in the evening so that there were very few people there. Alex watched us working with the accountant, and then went to one of the vacant desks and played out what he saw. The guy was a total professional. And very, very cute about it.

I'll be posting more photos soon of Nolan, I promise. For logistical reasons, I've been unable to download any more photos to my computer just yet. But it will happen soon. Really!

In the meantime, I'm probably drinking twice as much caffeine during the day as I had immediately prior to quitting. This isn't about addiction... except so far as I'm hopelessly addicted to sleep, and the withdrawal symptoms are overwhelming. I may have to eventually go back to sleeping again. THEN, perhaps, I can kick the caffeine. It seems like I need one or the other.

Let me begin by posting a photo of our much loved Nolan Theodore, taken just hours after he was born. I will point out that, in this photo, he looks an awful lot like Alexander did at the age of one or two months. Amazing what a couple of extra pounds will do:

Once we knew that Baby 2.0 would be a boy, we had to get serious about picking a name.

Paulette and I have a long list of names that we'd like to use for a daughter or daughters. But coming up with boys names, for some reason, has proven to be harder.

We did not know before our first was born whether he would turn out to be a boy or a girl, so we had to prepare for both contingencies. We knew that if we had a girl, our first choice was a family name from Paulette's side in the family that would, in effect, be naming the girl after her mother (and mother's mother, and mother's mother's mother). It was Paulette's idea that if we had a boy, we should name him after his father, in a similarly derivative fashion.

The story goes like this: while growing up, I'd look in various dictionaries to see what my name meant, and typically came across an entry that would say that Allan/Alan/Allen was derived from Alexander/Alexandra. My sister Sandra's name, likewise, is derived from Alexandra.

This was a coincidence that my parents neither knew of beforehand, nor expected, nor intended. But there it was, and I always thought that was an interesting coincidence.

On the basis of my telling Paulette this story, she suggested that we pick Alexander as the first name of our first born, if he should prove to be a boy (which he did). This way, Alex would be named after his father (and aunt) without having *exactly* the same name. In case you're wondering, his second name came down to a choice between Ivan and Benjamin. In the end, we decided to honor one of the more interesting thinkers and tinkerers involved with the American Revolution rather than paying homage to my interest and background in Russian studies.

(Names are to be picked at least as much on the basis of how they sound as by what they mean. "Alexander Ivan" would work well, and sounds very Russian, while "Alexander Benjamin" also sounds good and is decidedly American in tone. I'm interested in Russian history, but I am very much an American....)

With the second child on the way, we learned his gender before he was born and took quite a bit of the available time to come up with a name. We started by making a list of names we wouldn't use:

• first names of immediate family members
  
• names in the top 20 or so of the most commonly given boy names in the US in the past few years
  
• names of obvious religious significance
  
• and names that would be difficult to spell right the first time

Paulette has three brothers and we both have many male cousins. We wanted to avoid the problem of "Hey, why'd they name their kid after so-and-so instead of me?" I had, at one point, thought about naming our second child after my cousin who had died a few years ago in a car accident, which also happens to be the name of one of Paulette's brothers, but we eventually decided to defer that idea. Likewise, the recent death of my maternal grandfather almost made me ask to reopen the decision we had finally made, but I chose not to.

We've run into an odd situation where every group of toddlers where we take Alex, there is at least one other Alex. So, we decided to avoid super-common names. (Alexander was the 16th most common name the year he was born, but we didn't expect that to be the case at the time.)

As for religiously significant names... there are a dozen reasons for us to avoid them, many having to do with not wanting to saddle the child with too many loaded messages in his name.

Then there's the spelling issue. Paulette and I both grew up with having both our first and last names mercilessly mangled by anyone we needed to give our names to, and since we are giving my last name to the child, we may as well give him a first name that's easier to spell correctly on the first try.

Now then: with these stipulations (only four of them!), we found it nearly impossible to come up with a name.

For a while, Andrew was at the top of our list, until we discovered its religious significance. Theodore was also at the top of our list at one point, but we simply didn't like any of the common nicknames for Theodore.

Nolan is a family name on Paulette's side, particularly drawing from Irish family members. We both have Irish grandparents, so going with an Irish theme felt right to both of us. It's easy to spell right on the first try, even though it's not one of the most common names in the US. It's meaning, in Irish, is "noble; faithful." Those are virtues we can happily endorse. (Most other Irish names mean "stout warrior" or "brave warrior" or "fearless warrior" or "drinks too much".) We are unaware of any religious significance attached to the name. And neither of us have any immediate family members who share that first name (although, alas, one brother does have it as a middle name -- we let that slide).

His middle name? Well, since Abraham was out of the running this time (rule number three), we opted to pay homage to another stand-out American president: Theodore Roosevelt. In other words, a name synonymous with "bold warrior".

If there should be a Baby 3.0, we will use a different set of rules for picking the name, just as the rules for Name 2.0 were different from the previous time. But that's an if for another time. Right now, we are very happy and very blessed to welcome Nolan Theodore into our lives.

There is, however, a postscript to this naming story...

Alexander is just past two-and-a-half years old now, and continues to be growing at a fast and furious pace, both physically and mentally (and, presumably, emotionally).

When he was first born, I posted photos and essays all of the time about how things were going. This was largely because 1) we have lots of family and friends who don't live in the area but who wanted to know all about him, and 2) he was just so *interesting*; having him was such a fresh experience.

Having him around these days is no less of a fresh experience, even after two and a half years. Every week, there's something new about him and how he interacts with the world. Every week, I learn something new about myself because of him.

But I also have a growing suspicion that not everything that I find interesting about having him around would be as interesting to everyone else, especially after two and a half years. For example: it seems like every day these days, people ask me how the new house is coming along. Hence I post updates regarding our house-in-progress on a frequent basis. But fewer people ask for daily updates on how Alex is doing.

And those questions aside, much of what is going on these days with Alex is nowhere near as... romantic? idyllic? cute?

There's a song by a Canadian band called The Arrogant Worms entitled "Baby Poo" in which the singer despairs: "I used to talk about politics, capitalism, socialism, I used to talk about all those -isms, but now I'm a dad and all I talk about is baby poo...." It's funny because it's TRUE. When new parents get together to talk, they not only talk about what their little tike is learning and doing, but also about the frequency and consistency of their children's bowel movements.

Dogs and new parents know something that most of the rest of the world doesn't: there's a great deal of information that is conveyed in bowel movements.

But egestion habits are not the topic of polite conversation, and so much of that kind of talk should be left out of one's updates on "How is the little one doing?" At two-and-a-half years old, however, Alexander's big events surround 1) sleeping (or, rather, resisting sleeping) in a "big boy bed", and 2) potty training.

Oh, sure, he's also learning how to speak in more complete sentences, and he's playing with his toys in more sophisticated ways. He's more emotive with each passing week, and is actually singing along more with his music. He has formed definite ideas of how he wants Mommy and Daddy to play with him or to leave him alone, and he is learning to handle cooperative play with his friends as well as possessiveness.

And it's always fascinating to see what Paulette and I obsess over and what we don't even give a second thought with regard to Alex and his growing abilities. I have taught Alex that he can use his step stool to turn on and off light switches, for example, but he has extended this knowledge to figure out how to get up on the kitchen counter and play with our set of knives. Clever kid, and not unexpected, but it just happened *sooner* than expected. With everything he learns, we learn that there are many more consequences that we have to deal with.

And even when we anticipate those consequences, it's not like we're not going to teach him how to solve problems.

But at the age of two-and-a-half, Alexander's big news tends to center around the same two things as when he was newborn: sleep and poop. He is teething again (back molars), which combined with being removed from the crib and given a bed, has made sleeping a bit of an issue lately. And, we've begun potty training.

Potty training is really not as much of an ordeal as the non-parent might think. But that doesn't make it fascinating dinner conversation for non-parents, either. Which is why I didn't post on New Year's Day: "Well, today marks quite a milestone. Today Alexander peed in the potty, all of his own volition." And why I didn't post on subsequent days when he tried and missed, or didn't try at all, or managed to poop in the potty, etc. It's the kind of thing that parents of similarly-aged kids will compare notes on, because they want to make sure they're managing the whole potty training thing correctly, but they are the kinds of updates that not everybody necessarily would be interested in.

Potty training and sleep issues aside, Alex remains remarkably happy and healthy. As is common with two-year-olds, he tends to resist his parents' will at the most awkward of times, but he's nonetheless just a treat to be around. He's so much joy, in fact, that we may eventually consider having another. Be afraid. Be very afraid. Bwahahahaha.

I merely offer a funny observation today.

I've noticed that other parents do this, but now I'm noticing Paulette and me doing it as well: communicating to the other parent by what you say to the child. Essentially, you say something to the child that might normally be a part of your conversation, but what you're really doing is conveying information to your partner who happens to be within earshot.

Example:

Parent #1: Well, Child, after we get you cleaned up, perhaps Parent #2 will take you out for a walk.

Translation: Honey? I know you're listening. Will you please take Child out for a walk? I need a break after we finish cleaning up, here.

I've seen this sort of nonsense on sitcoms (usually it's more malignant, like: "Child, if Parent #2 doesn't take you out for a walk, then I'm going to owe you a lot of money for therapy because of our resulting divorce..."), and then occasionally with friends of ours as they started to have kids (not quite so malignant). Now we've got a kid in the house, and we're doing it, too.

Was this learned? Did we pick this up from the sitcoms and our friends? Or is this actually a naturally programmed way for humans to interact? Yet one more means of indirect communication? Hmmmm.

A recent trip to Boston didn't go as planned.

This was the first time we'd flown across the country with Alexander. We were heading out to attend a conference, and then visit friends and family in the area before the return flight home.

At the same time, the third (or fourth?) hurricane this year was making its way toward Florida, once again threatening the home of my maternal grandparents. As my grandfather was evacuated with others to Miami, my grandmother found herself being brought along to my parents' homestead in Western New York.

And so came about a slight change in plans. My grandmother, who would never otherwise have found herself in the Northeast, took a little trip in my parent's airplane to a location halfway between Buffalo and Boston. We were able to meet them there, as were other members of our family.

Our visit was short, but we were happy to finally introduce Grandma to her great-grandchildren (Alexander the oldest among them). For the first time in my adult life, we had four generations under one roof.

It was a bittersweet reunion. While we were most happy to see Grandma and the little ones all together (not to mention the other family members who were there), we wished that Granddaddy could have joined us as well.

So while I try not to get all mushy on this site as a general rule, I hope you'll bear with me as I send out all my love to all of my family. I'm glad a slight change of plans was able to bring about an unexpected family reunion. And here's to Granddaddy: you weren't able to join us this time, but you were certainly in our hearts.

And how odd... four generations in one house, and this time I wasn't a part of the youngest generation. Another reminder that I'm getting older, for all the complex emotions that brings up.

I wonder if, in my lifetime, I'll ever get to be a part of five generations all under one roof.

It's a neat thought. But for now, I'll count my blessings and be grateful that these four have made it this far.

A friend had sent me an e-mail a month or so asking when I was going to post new photos to my site, and I mentioned that request when I posted the previous batch of photos of Alexander. However, I was being disingenuous. My friend wanted to see pictures of *me*. He wanted to see how fat I'd gotten, I guess.

Or, more to the point, I've been feeling pretty glum about my weight, so I deliberately misunderstood what he was saying (er, typing).

So, a few days ago I updated the photo of me in the "navigation bar" to the right on my site. As a friend of mine has so gently pointed out, "Well, you have the 'before' picture. Now you just need the 'after' picture, and you can start selling weight loss books like that Jared guy."

With friends like these, who needs the upcoming presidential election?

But, while I'm at it, I may as well post a recent photo of Alexander, as well. He's getting taller every day, it seems, and his face is starting to take on more definition. It's amazing how fast he shifting from "baby" to "guy."

His language is taking on more nuances, as well. He's mastering "Please," for example, when he wants something, and he's starting to cleverly put together "more" with the name of whatever it is he wants. "More ice cubes... pwease." For him, a complex sentence!

He's also beginning to get the hang of "thank you", which has a very funny side effect. As whenever he begins mastering something new, he is prone to repeating it over and over again. However, his enunciation is not particularly exact, and so his "Thank you" doesn't sound like "Thank you" to people who don't know him. Oh sure, the "you" part comes out just fine. But, well, instead of a fully formed "th" sound, it comes out more like an "f" sound. And the "n" doesn't quite come through at all. Since all short vowels sound pretty much the same, the result sounds more like a jubilant expletive than polite appreciation.

Oh, and "ice cubes" doesn't sound like "ice cubes", either. The "i" doesn't come out long, so you end up with the short vowel sound in there, as well. More like, "ass cubes."

So we'll be out at a restaurant with friends, and he'll reach for our ice water. After he's scooped an ice cube and put it in his mouth, he'll start repeating over and over again: "Fuck you! Ass cubes! Fuck you! Ass cubes!"

We will have to put him into day care for a couple weeks next month, and we took him along to check out one of the facilities we're looking at. Toward the end of the tour, the nice lady there gave Alex a rubber ball. Now he's running around, shouting "Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you." And we have to expain to her that he's saying "Thank you."

I hope they let us come back.

"When are you going to put up some new pictures of Alex?"

I get this question almost as frequently as "When are you going to lose some weight?" and "When are those lobotomy scars going to stop scabbing up?"

But work and cleaning out the garage and work and cooking dinner and work and writing the great American novel and work all take up a bit of time, and the next thing you know... it's been over four months since the last Alexander update.

This past weekend, a friend of mine and Paulette's from our college days stopped by our house en route between vacation and home. She happened to have a spiffy camera with her, and shot a lot of photos. So here's your pictures of Alexander, already. :-)

Alex has become quite the articulate kid these days. He seems to be interspersing real words with a generous supply of creative babble, but the sentences he produces often seem to make sense. When he wants to be entertained, for example, his sentences will end with "Nemo?" or "Wanderin'!" or "Nuk."

"Nemo," of course, is his way of asking to see the DVD of "Finding Nemo".

Many months ago, Paulette and I rented the DVD of "A Mighty Wind", a Christopher Guest mockumentary about the folk groups of the 60's. While we were watching it, Alex would keep dancing whenever they played music, so we ended up getting the soundtrack. The word "Wanderin'" is the title of two tracks on the CD, plus it's featured prominantly in the first line of the CD, so Alex asks for the CD by asking for "Wanderin'".

As for "Nuk", that just seems to be Alexander's generic word for "music". Go figure.

I'm pleased to report that he remains a happy, healthy, intelligent, and beautiful child. Of course, good looks will get him farther than intelligence in this society, but that's no reason not to encourage him to think. You know... just in case his amazing good looks should someday leave him (as they did me).

Speaking of good looks... Remember how I lamented a few essays ago about my darkening hair and corresponding loss of identity? Well, everywhere we went this past weekend, people commented on how positively blond Alexander looked -- to which I would reply, "Just like his father," only to be greeted by totally blank stares.

Sheesh.

Anyway. Um. Where was I? Oh, yeah, the kid's got good looks. No doubt about it. The fact that he has this incredibly infectious smile makes him even more of a star when we go out for a walk. As we pass by, people look at him and can't help but smile. Then they look at me and their eyes say, "Isn't that nice? His grandfather is taking him out for a stroll."

As for the "healthy" part of that equation -- like any child, he gets sick from time to time, but not so often as to keep the household in a perpetual feedback loop of illness. We hope he's getting sick *just enough* for him to build up his immune system. The evidence suggests he's doing okay in that regard: just enough, and no more.

His favorite activities include: going to the park once or twice a day, and going for at least one vigorous walk; listening to music and singing along to "Wanderin'"; reading the Sunday comics and then shredding them to pieces; playing "Where's Elmo" with the monthly Sesame Street magazine we get as part of our Parenting magazine subscription; watching "Nemo", Baby Mozart, and the 6 o'clock news (and, sometimes, Wheel of Fortune afterward), although we are careful to limit his television viewing on a day by day basis; chasing soap bubbles; drawing with pens or with crayons (usually all over his mommy's crossword puzzle); pressing buttons wherever he can find them; and playing in the driver's seat of the car. He likes that last one so much, he broke the rear view mirror off the windshield of our Passat.

Let's see... what else can I tell you about the little guy?

He goes to bed without complaining. That doesn't mean he necessarily goes to *sleep* right away -- tonight, for example, I know he was awake and playing in his crib for at least an hour and a half after we put him in his crib -- but that's okay. If he wakes up in the middle of the night, he usually doesn't call for us. Instead, he turns on a Mozart music box we've attached to his crib, and he just lets the music carry him back to sleep. In the mornings, he's good about letting us know he's up without screaming for attention.

Which is all by way of saying that Paulette and I have absolutely as wonderful a kid as we could have ever asked for. Even if we have to make sure to read Dilbert or do the crossword puzzle before he does.

--Allan

PS: all of these photos were taken this past weekend.

No pictures today, sorry. I'm sick (my sinuses are so stuffed, a taxidermist consulted with me on what to do to preserve Willy the Orca), and I'm just not in the mood to do all that photo manipulation stuff so that you can download a picture of His Cuteness in less than a day. I'm tired, and I'm going to go to bed early. Nyeh.

Suffice it to say, Alexander at a year and a half is one amazingly good looking child, even if I do say so myself.

We took him in for his regularly scheduled doctor visit. The doctor says he's still too thin, but not dangerously so, and otherwise he's growing quite nicely. He's doing well "developmentally", which I reckon means his mental is developing well.

His vocabulary is growing by leaps and bounds. This past week, he's been mimicking us with all kinds of words, esp. names of things. He's also started to say back to us things we've been teaching him for months. He'll poke us in the eye and say, "Eye!" He'll poke us in the nose and say, "Nose!" He'll ram his sticky hands into my mouth and say, "Teeth." What a guy.

After a set-back last week, when he and Paulette were sick and I was out of town, he's resumed sleeping through the night again. Alas, now that I've gotten whatever ailment they had, I'm not.

But I'm not bitter.

Alexander gets together a couple of times a week with friends his own age, as well as a babysitter who is great with him, and I'm glad to say that he plays well with others. Alexander, I mean, not the babysitter.

Paulette and I are still figuring out this parenting thing, but Alex has such a great disposition that it doesn't seem to be as hard as I know it can be. We are, to put it mildly, very fortunate that our little guy is so happy, healthy, smart, and pleasant to be around.

It's hard to believe that we're already a year and a half into this adventure. Oh, my.

Oh, and it's after eleven. Hard to believe I've managed to stay up so late, feeling as awful as I do. Here's to a better tomorrow!

A month or two ago, a friend posted a note to a list we're both on saying that it's time for an Alexander update. Alas, alack, I've been woefully remiss in sharing the news about life with Alexander Benjamin.

So here's the news, so fresh that the pixels aren't even dry yet. In fact, I snapped the picture to the left earlier today, so now you know *exactly* what he looks like as of this writing.

At his fifteen month check-up a few weeks ago, where his measurements were taken and he received a number of shots (including a flu shot) and the like, the pediatrician said that his weight is not keeping up with the rest of him, growth-wise. While he's still around the fiftieth percentile in height, his weight is in the bottom five percent of children his age. In short: we have to fatten this kid up.

It's a completely different problem from the problem I've been having, weight-wise, and I hope it bodes well for his metabolism as he gets older. In the meantime, however, it *is* a problem.

Three days after the check-up, as we were starting to see some improvement in how much he was eating, he got sick with flu-like symptoms and threw up everything he'd eaten during the latter half of the day... and he kept throwing up. Roughly every fifteen minutes. The poor guy. The thing is, he was otherwise happy and having an excellent day.

The night was not so excellent, as I stayed up with him until he was finally able to go to sleep and not be awakened by the need to vomit. The next day, he was a little better, and he was able to drink by around noon without causing him to throw up anymore. However, he had zero appetite, and it was days before he started to eat anything other than milk. For about two weeks, he was eating *less* than he was before the doctor told us we had to fatten him up.

I'm pleased to report that his appetite is coming back, and he no longer looks like a poster child for a Sally Struthers Save-The-Children campaign, although he was definitely looking a bit scrawny during bath time for a little while there.

Aside from the fact that we need to fatten up the kid, the big news is his emerging personality.

One of the things that gets more prominent each passing day is how much he enjoys music. The other day, we gave Paulette's old stereo from college (which still has a working turntable) as a gift to a friend of the family who is in high school. He (the gift recipient) had never seen a record player in action before, so his father took out his old records (from *his* high school days) and showed him the proper care and feeding of vinyl records.

Now, our friend's old record collection consisted pretty much exclusively of old Rush albums with the occasional Bob Seger or Dire Straights album. So, the son put on the Bob Seger album, and Alexander started dancing up a storm to the music. Then it was time to try out a Rush album, and Alexander still kept dancing. It was quite a sight to see, little Alex bobbing up and down and trying to figure out the beat to a Rush song (which, of course, has no regular beat).

A few nights ago, Paulette and I rented the movie "A Mighty Wind" to watch at home. This movie is a "mockumentary" of the reunion of several fictitious folk bands from the 1960's. The movie was part parody, part homage to the great folk legends of the '60's (like Peter, Paul and Mary, and the Kingston Trio). Every time a song came on, Alexander would go into his little dance.

We're thinking of getting the soundtrack to the movie for Alexander, since we know he likes the music. :-)

Alexander still doesn't speak much, although he babbles incoherently all the time (much like his father). He's starting to show that he understands speech, however, and he is getting very good at responding physically even if not verbally. If we're getting ready to go out to the park, for example, I can ask him to find his shoes and he does -- and he brings them to me to put them on him. Then he brings me my shoes. You can ask him questions about whether he wants a particular thing, and he'll respond by shaking or nodding his head. (And then he'll act consistently with the response he gave.)

He can sign for "more," "done," "book," and "what noise does this make when I bang it against the glass table repeatedly?" He can say words that approximate "shoe," "bird," "cheese," and, alas, "no." (Plus, of course, the earlier mentioned "up," and "balloon".)

Speaking of speaking, he's signalling me right now that he's tired of my doing all this typing, and he wants me to read to him. So, I'm going to go.

Oh, one last thing. We've finally started a bedtime regimen, and he actually goes to bed *awake* and manages to fall asleep all by himself, without much protesting. It's been a long time, but Paulette and I are both happy to finally be at this point. :-)

I retroactively added a photo of Alexanders "Up" routine to the previous entry about his being a year old. Here's another photo, taken on his birthday, in which he unwraps his first toy truck. Coooool.

I love that shot. It looks like he's found the holy grail.

One of the other things I think I forgot to mention is how much Alexander is starting to imitate us, even when he doesn't understand what we're doing. For example, a couple of days ago I was playing a video game on our XBox console. I don't play very often (much too busy), but I had the opportunity and decided to take it. Alexander observed me playing, then decided that he had to have a controller, himself. Which means he kept grabbing mine. Cleverly, I pulled down one of the other controllers (unplugged) and gave it to him to play with. He then began pushing the buttons on it and generally acting as if *he* were playing a video game. Very funny. And very revealing, insofar as I don't know what I'm doing, either, when I'm playing video games. :-)

I'll leave you with one more photo before I go. Here's one of the little guy sleeping. Is he not a little angel? When he's asleep, I mean. Nothing spells trouble like Alexander when he's awake.

Time for an update about the kid.

Alexander turned one year old this past Sunday. It's amazing how quickly this past year has flown by. My parents used to tell me that this time distortion zips things by even fast with each passing year, and that kids grow up faster than the national debt. Well, they didn't use those words exactly. But you get the idea.

One year down, seventeen to go until college (if he chooses to go to college). Ahhhh!

Alexander is doing alright for himself. Paulette picked out a local park where we claimed a picnic table and set out cake and watermelon and grapes (for adults only -- did you know that grapes are a choking hazard for kids under four years of age?) and soda and juice and the like. Friends dropped by to share in the birthday celebrations, and Alexander got to run around the park, swing on the swings, and play with some of his friends from the group of moms and babies that Paulette spends time with.

One of the highlights for me was watching how the tots played with one of the toys. A friend with a boy the same age as Alex had brought him a little "Elmo" piano toy that plays music and lights up lights when you hit the keys. Alexander and two of his buddies stood around the Elmo toy which was sitting on the cooler, and they kept hitting the keys and then bouncing up and down as the music played. I wished I had a video camera to capture it, it was so *cool* to see them dance like that.

Another highlight was, well, just seeing all the cool people who came by to wish Alexander well. We even had a dear friend come all the way down from Vancouver, BC to give him a stuff Canadian bear and a big ol' tonka-style truck. It was great to see so many good friends come by and share their time with us. Alexander had a fine time, got himself all exhausted, and finally zonked out just in time for the party to wind down.

By way of celebrating his new status as a toddler, I've taken to let him climb up and down the stairs whenever we are moving from one part of the house to the other (usually upstairs for diaper changes, main floor for most other activities, and downstairs to go out for a stroll). He is moving around with much more agility than in the past, and his upper body strength is surprising. He is also enjoying playing with new toys and reading new books that he receive for his birthday.

But he also surprised us with something very new today: he said his first word. Over and over and over again. You might think his first word would be "Mom" or "Dad" or some variation of one of those. But no. His first word was (drumroll please):

Up.

Several times today, he would simply point up and say, "Up!" And, of course, we encouraged him. It was distinct and it was deliberate. Now, whether "Up" means the same thing to him that it means to us, we aren't certain. He didn't say it like a command (as in, "Pick me UP!"). More like a general observation. As in, "Mother. Father. The direction I am pointing could be considered, in a word, 'up'."

I have photos from the birthday party as well as photos of him from today doing his "up" routine. I'll try to post these soon.

Hope you're having an "up" day, too.

Because so many of you have asked, here is an update on Alexander. I haven't posted anything about him in a while. This isn't because nothing's been going on. No, no, no. This is because I feel the need to include photos when I post entries about him, and cropping down the photos so that they'll still look good at Web resolution (that's 72dpi to you) takes more effort than I have time for, these days.

And shrinking them down to fit... how far do I shrink 'em? I want them to be large enough for you to see, but small enough so that you don't have to resize your browser window just to take in the whole view.

And then, there's selecting which photos to post. For today's post, I narrowed two electronic rolls of 64 photos each down to thirteen representative (and relatively in-focus) shots. I put all thirteen into Photoshop, cropped 'em, shrunk 'em, and saved 'em. But, which ones should I choose to put up today?

Okay, okay. That's all a long-winded excuse for why I haven't shown you the little guy. Let's get on with the show.

A great deal has been going on since last I posted about him. Alexander's two lower teeth and several upper teeth have come in. A couple more upper teeth are on their way.

He has started walking. He doesn't walk around a lot, yet -- he'll tool around for six or eight steps and then sit back down. But he's doing that more and more often. He's been very articulate. We notice more inflection and variety in his speaking all the time, even if we can't understand a thing he's saying. More often then not, he'll explain to us that, "Bwah, bwah, bwah." Don't know what it means, but it's endearing.

As ever, he keeps going through growth spurts. At one point, his growth spurt seemed to be dealing exclusively with his head. His cranium started bulging out so much, we thought he looked a bit like a mad scientist. I've included a photo here showing the mad scientist at work on the most important tool for controlling the world: the remote control.

His appearance changes from day to day, especially eye and hair color. Most days, his eyes are a brilliant blue, but every once in a while they take on a greenish tinge. His mother's eyes alternated between blue and green for the first five years of her life before they settled on green, so it's anybody's guess what will happen with his eye color. (For the record, my eyes are green and my father's eyes are blue, which is also true for Paulette, so we know that we both carry both blue and green eye-color genes.)

On any given day, his hair will appear blond, reddish, or brownish.

Dear friends of mine across the country has a son who was born one week before Alexander, and we also have good friends here who have children just a few months younger. You can't help but compare your child to other children when certain things come up in conversation. Alexander was a late crawler compared to most of the babies we know here, but he started crawling early compared to Jack out on the other coast. But Jack, on the other hand, has been eating solid food without complaining for months. Months!

Not so, Alexander.

Alexander simply doesn't get into eating "solid" foods, like the Gerber pureed veggies and the like. For a while he'd tolerate them, but he's not even doing that any longer. There are very few things he'll put into his mouth, and food is not among them.

He will, however, chew on paper products. Napkins, envelopes, yellow legal paper. His favorite paper product, though, is playing cards. Just like his father, he has taken an early liking to playing with cards (someday I'll have to explain why I named my web site "House of Cards"...). Unlike his father, though, once he gets tired of playing with the cards, he'll put them into his mouth and gum them to oblivion.

Is the red dye in playing cards poisonous? I sure hope not.

For a kid who doesn't eat much food, though, Alexander is doing just fine. And in less than a month, he'll be celebrating his first birthday. Yee-ha! Or, in the words of Alexander, himself: Bwah, bwah, bwah!

Alexander Benjamin turned nine months old recently. We took him to the doctor, who says he's still a healthy, healthy boy. There is *some* cause for concern, insofar as his weight has dropped relative to his height. He's gone from being a 90th percentile (or so) in height and weight compared with other kids his age to being 75th percentile in height and 55th in weight. I think this is because he tries to eat everything but food. Go figure.

Just a day or two ago, he became an expert at getting into everything that we'd rather he not. He's learned how to take my records off the shelf and out of their jackets and drool on them while we're not paying attention. He has figured out how to unspool a roll of toilet paper, how to flush a toilet (lots of fun! big noise!), how to unshelve books, how to press buttons on the CD carosel to make it spin around and around, and how to climb up the stairs. Oh, and another recent behavior change is that he no longer likes to lie still when we change his diapers. He gets quite upset about it, actually. He'd rather stand or crawl. Very frustrating for mom and dad.

We've been signing certain words to him for a couple months now, but he's not signing them back to us yet. He is, however, expanding his vocabulary of sounds. Taking a cue from his dad, he will now bounce his finger up and down between his lips and say, "Brbrbrbrbrbrbrbrb."

When we took him to the doctor, they ran through a series of routine questions:

"Is he pulling himself up to a standing position?"

"Yes."

"Does he work his way around the coffee table in a standing position?"

"Yes."

"Does he clap his hands or clap toys together?"

Uh-oh.

Is our child somehow defective? He hasn't clapped! "Well, no, Doctor, but he does splash in the pool with his hands, and none of the other kids at swimming class do that." (Okay, I'm kidding -- I didn't actually say that.)

Well, as it turns out, he started clapping just a couple of days ago. So I guess we can rest assured that, his bizarre eating habits aside, he's doing quite well. Yee-ha!