with tremendous success

I'm not sure he could ever pretend to be without preference. 

But I am fairly certain that he will continue to right foot left foot his way into or one plus one his way out of anything.

Most of the time we know exactly what he means.

Puh puh puh church, he said, over and over again. Except the "church" part sounded like tut. And it was fairly out of context, as he sat building with magnatiles. So it took us a long time to understand what he was actually saying. 

When he gets frustrated because we don't understand, he tries to enunciate the initial sound, but it's always with the letter P, whether the word starts with P or not. Like puh puh puh diving board. Or puh puh puh solution. 

So, not particularly helpful. But super cute.

trying

I only cried once this weekend. I might blame the tears on an accumulation of things, on missing and medicating and re-cleaning and refereeing and who knows what else. Well, maybe the national news.
Mostly though, I spent a lot of time trying to hold it together.

The boys went from co-conspirators to sworn enemies and back again, practicing every single emotion they'll ever use in life on each other. Over the course of one weekend.
My patience evaporated with the coffee I reheated sixteen times and my muscles ached.
I tried using charitable words, tried helping them navigate humanity in the wake of my own, but everybody was crying and everything needed batteries and nobody felt quite right.

So in search of fresh air and improved moods, we went to the zoo. Driving home, I noticed we all seemed a little less tired and a little more optimistic. The boys spent an afternoon smiling, and I had too.

the climber

When his teachers explained that he'd scaled the classroom shelves a couple weeks ago, I was like Really?

autumn

Tolliver woke up this morning talking about the scent of fall, how it makes him hungry for s'mores.

It feels like just last week I cut pants into shorts for the onslaught of spring. Most boasted holes in the knees anyway.
Summer invited polka dot shins, little legs marked with bruises and knicks.
Could a mother tell the seasons this way, I wonder, from pale to bruised to tan?

Suddenly it's time to think about cooler weather again, to find pants that will cover longer bodies. This weekend we tackled tubs and dressers and closets, preparing to embrace a wardrobe of light coats and tall socks and fleece jammies.

And then, shelves stocked with sweaters and jeans that should fit for a minute, we headed outside, enjoying crisp air and sunshine, a fresh crop of acorns and a little chocolate graham cracker treat.

bits of the week

up*date*

We ended up with an inadvertent two pounds of dates last week. I needed six for a recipe, and I figured I'd shove the rest into the blender for smoothies, but they became a new favorite snack. Hank keeps saying I need another update.

Which prompted me to write a brief one on Hank at two and a half on a random Tuesday...

We read The Greedy Python approximately six times before breakfast.

When I suggest a diaper change, he sits, momentarily, half-hiding behind a couch pillow, hollering I disappeared!

We build forts - in my bed, under the table, behind the couch - with pillows and blankets, until Hank declares each more amazing than the last.

He runs and runs and inevitably runs right into something - the fridge, the island, the banister. He thinks about crying but winds up rubbing the injury and saying But it's alright, I'm tough.

We play hide and seek and I barely have time to look behind the curtain before he yells Here I is, I mean here me are!

He helps me unload the dishwasher and has a little come apart when I try to help get the bowls stacked safely. He recovers quickly when I ask him to remind me where the pizza cutter goes.

We set up the PlayMobil animals and pretend the characters visit the zoo, but not for long because Hank's favorite is the donkey, whom he calls volcano, and he really just wants the volcano to come along for the rest of the days adventures.

We sit next to each other for lunch and, between bites, Hank explains Monkeys have hands to eat bananas. But monkeys not have hands to eat grilled cheese. 
He offers the volcano a bite of his banana and goes on: Volcanoes have feet but cars don’t have feet.
He begs for bites of my salad - specifically cucumber bites please.
And after fruit and a sandwich and lots of cucumber bites, he's still not full, because he asks again for an update.