Ode to guacamole

Snapshot: Our Life These Days

It is a very rare event that I get to take a shower. By myself. With no interruptions. No one peering in through the glass door, knocking and asking me about bunny cookies, lego helicopters or juice.

This morning, Ryan successfully entertained Cass for the entire duration of my longer-than-usual shower. And I even dried my hair with a real electric hairdryer.

Me (curious): So what were you guys doing?

Ryan (nonchalantly): We made tunnels, read books and I made up a rap about snowmen.

Snapshot of spring

We've been busy this spring. A new big-boy bed. Full sentences. A week in Chicago. A second birthday. A tricycle that he can't quite peddle. Made-up words, like choo-choo truck (read: semis). Trips to the zoo, the market, the riverfront. An 8pm bedtime. Lazy evenings in the backyard, digging for worms and throwing balls--sometimes into the hoop, more often over the fence. Skinned knees ("no band-aid, Mama!" he won't touch the things). Running. Jumping. More running. We built a fence in the backyard. Since the day Cass learned to crawl, most of his existence has been dedicated to plotting his escape. If there's a way out--from the straps of his carseat to the confines of our home--he'll find it.

Perpetual state of motion.

A rare sight: Cass sitting.

Cass' mower will cross four front yards, then trail behind him for another two.

Inspired by the throng of kids at Chicago playgrounds, Cass takes his first-ever ride down a slide on his tummy.

Happy second birthday with a dairy allergy: vegan cookies and soy ice cream.

Mischief in an empty flower pot and the mittens he refused to wear during winter.