Bye bye diapers... Sort of

One week accident-free in big girl panties. I think we're officially potty trained. The 2 y.o., not me. I nailed it a while back, thankfully.

She still wears a pullup to bed, but it's usually still dry come morning.

I wish I could point to something special we did to make it happen so we can do it with the boy, but one day, instead of her usual "no" in response to "do you want to go on the potty?" she just said yes. Ever since, she has been great at telling us when she needs to go.

We did do the potty dances and celebrations, which she now does for me on occasion. We also offered M & Ms after her first pee and poop on the potty. But other than four minor "accidents" early on in the big girl panties, she's since been accident-free.

Meantime, the four month old is now wearing the same size diapers his sister just finished with last week. He's up to 17.5 lbs and is wearing 6-9 month clothes comfortably. I find myself Google and Binging "pituitary giant symptoms" and other worst-case scenarios, but thankfully, all appears to be well: he's just a chunky boy with delicious little rolls to kiss and clean. Except for that milk- and lint-capturing neck fold: NAS-ty if it's missed over a couple days.

They both are just growing fast. We're looking forward to hearing the first syllables out of the youngest. He hears a torrent of words each day between the rest of us, so he should not lack for inspiration or vocab. His sister's latest addition is "Look at my illustration." We're looking little one. We're looking.

FW: Whirlygig!

We're wandering the stroller-packed floor of the Seattle Center House for Whirlygig. Beignets, bouncy houses, fountain-gazing: we've had a full day.

Tiny footprints: past and present

I was reminded this weekend of how much a life can change in a short time. Specifically, how much our family has changed in less than three years.

Back then, J. and I were DINKS (dual income, no kids) absorbed in our respective careers and volunteer activities and able to jet off for great vacations to spots like Paris.

We debated whether to continue as the sometimes silly, footloose and fancy free aunt and uncle to our bevy of nieces and nephews, or have kids of our own.

1970s party in 1994

Eventually, we agreed that we wanted kids... at some point.

The point came in late 2006. I found out I was pregnant and tried to come up with a unique way to tell J. that wasn't too cutesy and that would resonate in his basketball-obsessed life.

When he came home one evening, I handed him a small box. Puzzled, and always eager to add to his collection, shook it and asked, "Is it a watch?

"Uh, no. Just open it." He did, and found these.

He looked up, still confused and said, "I don't get it."

"We're going to have a little point guard," I explained. I don't have a picture of the whoop and fist pump he threw in the air in excitement, but the shot below was just a few moments later.

Fast forward almost a year and that little baby, then 11 months old, finally rocked her tiny tennis shoes while watching Barack Obama rock the Democratic National Convention on his way to his historic election as president of the United States.

Fast-forward another year and a half or so and our newest addition is getting his chance to wear them too. Except unlike his petite sister, who held it down on the far left of the growth charts in the 5th percentile for height and weight, Dylan is in the 85-95th percentile and is wearing the shoes at just three and a half months old. He's also 16.5 pounds. She's 26 pounds at age 2 1/2. This little brother may be towering over his big sister within the year.He is a big, happy, mellow fellow...
While his sister is a busy bee of verbosity who rarely skips a chance to hug, kiss or "pet" him, as she puts it, rubbing his hair lightly.

Together, they've transformed our solitary lives in just over two years...

and we can't imagine our lives without their smiling faces.

Visiting schools for fall

We're visiting daycare/playcare places for Ava for the fall. Judging by the fit she threw when it was time to leave, this one ranks high on her list. Thankfully, I liked it too.

It was a families-welcome open house (surprisingly, not all are) and there were kids and toys everywhere. Seeing Ava carry on a complex but one-sided play phone conversation, then carefully putting blocks, tinker toys and other items back into baskets and on shelves, a teacher and parent remarked, "We'd love to have her here now!"

And we'd love for her to be somewhere now so that she can stop with the sad face accompanying the daily question, "When can I go to play school?"

Artist at work: her first painting

We'll see what the fall brings. She's definitely ready for some social interaction with people her own age, instead of the adults who populate her world right now.

Sent from my Nokia phone

Dylan smiles

In contrast to Ava, who smiled within hours of birth (and has barely stopped since), Dylan took about three weeks to bust a gummy smile on us. Now, at 11 weeks, he's a smiling machine!

Sent from my Nokia phone