Chas would very much like to walk, minus the falling down part. In the kitchen we were captive audience this afternoon. He would get up, look at us as if to say he’d just been given a $1000 gift certificate to Design Public, step step step witholding breath, then plop halfway surprised before looking up at both of us in pride, clapping his hands loudly and vigorously, grinning and soliciting our applause. At times like this I think he is entirely happy-go-lucky, just riding this whole walk-tease phase out; other times I perceive him as fiercely opinionated, like when I try to rescue my delicate cell fone out of his grasp and am met with the ringwraith scream, eardrums shattered and eyelids peeled back in strain. He’s a soft, snuggly bundle of conflicted joviality and frustration.

Ford and I visited the Montessori school at the end of our block yesterday morning. It was poised, pretty, just bubbling with children. They practice strict Montessori method, and I was impressed with the industriousness and self-reliance of a 4 year-old girl as she swept collage remnants with a child-sized broom into a child-sized dustpan. The place glowed with purpose and warmth and Ford (and Chas, for his part) seemed to enjoy it very much. In fact, he didn’t want to leave. He was attracted to station after station, wooden baskets and utensils, glowing freshwater fish tank and sunny windows facing the children’s vegetable garden.
But there are no openings until June 2006.
This might be our opportunity in disguise to travel this year and shuffle the boys out of the country for a little exploring, while we still can.

I feel as if I’m waiting for Them to come take Chas away. With conflicting travel plans coming from more than three loved ones, I find myself pushing Chas’ birthday celebration nearly two weeks following his actual birthdate. Is it so much to accommodate everyone’s schedules that they might be able to join us in celebration, or am I reluctant for Time to take away Chas’ First Year away from me, with all of the poignant milestones? He’s not going to be a baby once he passes his First Birthday, but a toddler. It’s not fair that decades of dying are preceded by the short, enthusiastic pant of life in that first year here.

Not only have I re-acclimated myself to the heat, but I have re-acclimated myself to applying gobs and gobs of sunscreen every half-hour.

Since I have difficulties juggling two kids, multiple personalities and a clunky EOS Rebel, I begged Damon to trade me his teensy Elph for my monstrous camera baggage. “Do it for the kids?” I urged, to his chagrin, but he caved and I love him for it.
Here is it’s new sleeve, lovingly (albeit hastily–c’mon, this is just after Girl’s Nite Out) stitched by hand from leftover sake monkey’s tie fabric when I should be sleeping. But it’s protected now:

Negotiating a deal with upper management.

This afternoon we were all so amped on imaginative play that we decided to set up a sushi bar in the boy’s room. With remnants I’ve been sewing salmon sashimi, tuna sushi and seaweed salad. It was so entirely diverting that we might go thrifting tomorrow for more kitchen accessories and vintage fabrics. Ford also mentioned wanting his own tea set and glasses for bubble tea and a sushi cutting board with a picture of a glass of bubble tea on top. And he wants bubble tea. I think the green tea variety.

Driving to playdate this morning with the restless boys in the back and Sake Monkey buckled into the seat between them, I realized the satisfying feeling of control that a stuffed doll offers. No matter what scenario you place them in, they remain quiet, trusting and happy.
For the past hour I’ve been drawing silhouettes for stuffed dolls. I began with a human-type but it quickly morphed into a starfish-person. Go figure. Add starfish-person notions to the thrift store list for tomorrow.

Aren’t these just Dandi?

I believe I’ve been inspired to make some aprons for Christmas and for another group:

My sewing machine needed a jumpstart so I jumped onto the July Month of Softies bandwagon in the nick of time and created a sock monkey (this month’s theme) out of a pair of Damon’s old boot socks. Guess what? He doesn’t smell funny. Chas thinks he’s charming and likes to snuggle with the toy already. When he is older he might think this is amusing. Why would his mother make a toy out of used men’s socks? Really, there isn’t enough Oxy-Clean and bleach in the world…but look how cute this is:

Want to see all of July’s pedal primates?

I can’t believe it, and you probably can’t either: we have never hired a sitter to watch the kids. I realized this when we were the only guests in the sushi bar this evening that had about a quart of white rice scattered on the floor beneath our table and from which a preschooler’s voice echoed across the restaurant: “DABBY DOTS OF JELLY! (giggle giggle) SALTY ON MY TONGUE AND YUMMY IN MY BELLY! (ikura) LOOK Daddy! There’s rice on the wall!” But this is us, and these kids are having fun eating fancy with us, being served with luscious glazed pottery and playing with the food-art. And the money we saved for not hiring a sitter pays nicely for two cold bottles of sake. DOWN THE HATCH, HONEY!