You know, the one that wears matching clothes for pictures. These are the t-shirts Mom sent from her recent trip to visit Dad in Florida.
First, we have Evan, who wouldn't pose with the rest of the crew (thanks to Allyson for taking the picture):
And then the rest of the kids:
Ever since Evan was a newborn, I've counted while getting him dressed. I'll button his onsie and count each snap--"One, two, three." (I figure all the other numbers are unnecessary and confusing.)
As a quick aside, I think Allyson and Ryan are good at math because when they were little we lived in apartment complexes with stairs, and we would count as we went up and down. By 20 months Allyson could count to 11 (the number of stairs to the ground floor). Isaac and Evan are cursed to live in a one-story and therefore not have the same educational opportunities as their older siblings. End of digression...
Evan quickly learned then that "one" follows "two," although his interest in "three" has been nonexistent. But he has a solid grasp, at least, on the concept of more than one.
This has recently become very amusing. When I hold the little guy, he will point to my hair and say "hair," my nose and say "nose," and my ear and say "ear." But on Friday he did the latter, followed by, "two ears." He now points out anything that he sees more than one of--two balls on his pajama shirt, two trucks in the parking lot, two books, etc.
So on Sunday I was in the kitchen eating a few cookies that I had made the day before. Evan bummed a few bites off me and then fussed when I cut him off. I asked if he wanted another cookie, and he looked up expectantly and said, "two cookie." Summer and I burst into laughter as his chutzpah.
Not because it's tax day (but seriously, who doesn't file until 4/15?), but because it's that special day, better than Christmas, my birthday, and Opening Day all rolled into one. It's that spring day when I walk outside to get the paper and realize it's not cold anymore and I can go to work without a jacket. No more chilly mornings and afternoons that are too warm to wear the jacket and I have to just carry it around. No, today begins the warm season in ABQ. And the best part is that there's no way to expect it; it just sneaks up on you. Awesome!
In our family we like order. We put the dishes away after we unload the dishwasher, we keep the kids' toys in specific bins, and the bookcases in the living room are arranged by genre. (When I was about 8, I grew weary of my parents and sisters not keeping the encyclopedias in order, so I created a check-out system to encourage responsible reading. I was an early-blooming dork.) But from a dark recess in the id comes the human desire for chaos. Thus, we decided to have children.
This is meant as a preface for what we took on this past Thursday, but the story begins about a year ago. Pat started giving the kids these fun card games for their birthdays—Moose in the House, Frog Juice, and Duck Duck Bruce. Then, a few weeks ago, Summer took Allyson to our favorite local toy store (Out of the Blue) to buy a birthday present for a friend. There they also bought a new card game for our family—Ruckus. It's a horribly fun game, and it lives up to its name quite well.
But, since we have a toddler in the house, we can't play this (or any other game, really) unless he's napping or otherwise occupied (that is, eating). However, at times, we give in and let the little guy get his hands on the cards. Thus, we get a scene such as this:
That's right, he's making a ruckus with the Ruckus cards.
That was Wednesday. On Thursday Summer decided to move the baby from the crib to the toddler bed. I came home that afternoon to find her cleaning the bed in the living room. Soon afterwards, we were engaged in moving it to the boys' bedroom. In doing so, we had to rearrange the room because...well, that's what we do. So we moved the beds around and did the following:
Not quite a ruckus, but it certainly disrupts our little world...
