God, I love watching students move in in the fall. I drove by them last Thursday. The whole front of the dorm was teeming with students, parents, minivans; new freshmen were all carrying in boxes and Rubbermaid totes and computers and brooms and laundry baskets…
I just love it because so many of them are about to have the best time of their lives so far–it’s so exciting. Watching them talking to their parents, meeting their new roommates–it’s a totally cheesy and yet authentically emotional thing to see. And I always love watching it.
I also get a little bit of a kick out of being the first college instructor some of my students ever meet (my first class this semester starts at 8:00 a.m. on the first day of classes, so that’ll be the case for a lot of them). They’re never quite expecting someone like me and I always get a really good look at them with their guard down on the first day. I love fall semester.
Mary says, “Mary not a baby anymore. But hold me like a baby. And feed me like a baby. And I talk like a baby. Waaaah!”
Hm. Okay, sure.
Mary just said to Wesley, “Here, boy–can you play with the blocks so I can get some work done? I need to write my dissertation.”
When we visited Michigan, less than a month ago, Wesley only said a few words–“mama,” “dada” [kind of], “Mary” [“May-ee”],”bottle,” and “go.” Sometimes “no.” Which means both “no” and “yes.”
His vocabulary, in the last couple of weeks, has just exploded. Things he has said include: “string cheese” [one of his favorite phrases], “ready get up,” “pick up,” “snuggle,” “give me,” “these,” “book,” “go bed,” “water,” “drink,” “some,” and “monkey.” Oh, and “thank you,” which he said when I gave him a piece of string cheese. He’s also started helping me unload the silverware from the dishwasher; he takes out the forks and spoons and whatnot one at a time and hands them to me, and then he grins when I say “Thank you!” He is fearless riding the little dolphin-on-a-spring toy at the playground and is really good at balancing on it. I just can’t get over how much he’s changed in the last month–walking, talking.
Mary is impressed by it, too. She said, “Wesley learning to talk?” I agreed that he was, and she said, “That’s so cute!”
I don’t quite know what’s going on with Picasa–just testing!
It’s taken me a while to get around to posting these photos. It’s not because I don’t care that you’re being deprived of my kids’ ultimate adorableness; it’s because Wesley developed an illness that consisted of him puking copiously all over me at regular, though not frequent, intervals.
Anyway. On to the remaining photos [which are possibly the cutest ones].
We had a blue-and-white stripe apparel festival!
men with overalls:
Mary loves Grandma Cal’s bunny:
Now, the county fair!
Mary in the stroller that Grandma Cal bought for the occasion [this is, incidentally, the perfect stroller–substantial enough to be comfy, light enough to maneuver]:
Wesley and Grandpa Moo, checking things out at the draft horse arena:
Mary had a hot dog:
Wesley and Sue visited Tyler’s lambs, who were washed and jacketed for the show:
Mary watched the beef show [standing next to Grandma Cal]. She quickly figured out and copied the correct livestock-watching stance.
checking out the baby ducks–note the curliness of my hair and Wesley’s.
…is also known as The Day That “It’s My Birthday, Dammit–I’m Not Doing These Dishes” Bites Me in the Ass.
My kitchen is a mess.