1. Here is my little crew on Easter. Love the cowboy boots. I'm sure when they're 12 I'll get everyone to look at the camera, but for now I'm satisfied that everyone sat (mostly) still for thirty seconds.
2. I heard an Easter sermonette from the automated advertisement at the gas pump today. Only in the Bible Belt.
3. In my experience, there is a significant shift in maturity (and the ability to be stationary for longer than ten seconds before something bright and shiny flits by) when children approach four. Silas will be four in June, and he is morphing into this little boy, who finds his sister's cup when she goes for his own, and negotiates for a preferred toy with his brother. He makes Emmy laugh and brushes his teeth when told (most of the time) and attempts to write words and is much less likely to scream in your face than he used to be. He is also suddenly interested in building, and will sit for thirty minutes or so in front of a box of blocks. Before, Silas wasn't going to sit for thirty minutes to do anything, ever. He is also completely out of diapers (has been for several months) and can mostly handle the whole potty thing on his own. I love four.
4. And while Silas is moving out of toddlerhood, Emmy is moving into it. This sweet little face? Is turning into a little stinker.
She bucks in car seats and stands up in her high chair in a restaurant (because those stupid belts never never work correctly) and cannot be bothered with sitting in your lap and hits her brothers on the head while they watch tv. Delights in opening the china cabinet, announcing "no-no", then grabbing a wine glass before toddling away with it as fast as she can. What happened to my placid baby?
At the same time, toddlerhood brings a new dimension of sweetness. Like the way she will wrap her little chubby hand around my neck to hug me at bedtime. Or the way she pretends to read her little books. She quacks at every bird (and very EARNESTLY quacked at my mom's cat), has the best little raspberry sound for an elephant, and chirps "thank you!" all day long. All toddlers keep their mothers running - and washing the toilet water off of their little hands - and in this Emmy is no different. But I can't imagine my life any other way. And I do love her sweet little face.