things i've been meaning to tell you.

Did I tell you Asher got a haircut? Asher got a haircut.

I know mothers usually devote entire posts to first haircuts, and it's supposed to be an end-of-babyhood thing for little boys, but honestly I was just relieved. It was in his face, and I had to suppress the urge to pull it back with a barrette all the time. It's still curly, and it's still longish and Asherish, just less so. See?



And did I tell you Asher and Silas have started playing together? Like sleeping through the night or cutting teeth or any other thing I've seen my children grow into, it was both gradual and instant. One morning they only interacted long enough to grab the other's toy, or to scream in protest. By that evening, they were laughing and chasing one another. It's like Asher suddenly realized this creature sitting on his mother's hip for fifteen months turned out to be a BOY after all. A boy who could potentially be someone fun to play with. Who knew.



Of course they still grab the other's toy, they still scream in protest, and I swear if Asher has hit his brother once, he has hit him a thousand times. But still. Now, sometimes, I also hear giggling and Asher calling, "BRO-VER ..." and Silas responding with, "BUH-BUH!" and every single time I smile. Not just rivals - brothers, too. Who sometimes hide the good trains in their rain boots.



Also, if you want to hear how you sound to your children, listen to them "discipline" their toys. Yesterday Asher was SO. VERY. FRUSTRATED that his sleeping bag would not cooperate with his game. He didn't understand that physics were against him, and he was PISSED that it wouldn't stay dangling over the top of his ride-on toy. He told the sleeping bag in his most serious voice, "I PUT you in time-out. You come back and you TRY AGAIN. YOU DON'T MOVE. You stay RIGHT. THERE." I couldn't help but laugh. He was so MAD at that sleeping bag.

He made me laugh this afternoon as well. He was sitting in the recliner and waking up slowly while I folded laundry and finished the cooking show I'd been watching. "Ooohhh," he said, impressed. "Ina Garten is making BLUEBERRY cof-fee cake." My little chef.

And Silas? Well. When he's not screeching in despair because he's not allowed to climb the dishwasher, or doing chin-ups onto the kitchen table to see what he could be swiping, or pushing his sweet potatoes around his tray, declaring dramatically, "yyyyyyuck" ... I could eat him up.







Happy Wednesday all.