We entertained the sweetest boys in the world last night. More photos soon!
Archive for the ‘Ava’ Category
29 Sep
Sticky Sweet
My whole family joined me on campus this weekend for Family Day. This year, we rented a cotton candy machine for our open house. I think it’s amazing that you can spin sugar into something so ethereal and gorgeous with so little effort.
It was quite popular among kids of all ages—especially the under five set.
17 Sep
Vintage Ava Fix
My mom sent these photos of Ava from when she was a couple of months younger than Olivia is now.
Here’s she’s diapering Night-Night Duck, the stuffed animal I mentioned in the post below.
And, here, she’s sharing her carrots with the Hulk.
I forgot how attentive Ava was to her babies. Interestingly, Olivia has never attempted to diaper anyone, but she will give them a bottle every now and then.
This reminds me of the time Ava lifted her shirt to nurse a toy at McDonald’s. Her poor father almost died of embarrassment.
15 Sep
Good clean fun
I took a slew of bath shots tonight—I’ll post them throughout the rest of the week. Here’s a preview!
8 Sep
Grandpa and the girls
I only took one photo on our trip to Nebraska this weekend–I’m glad it was this one!
3 Sep
Overheard: Green edition
Ava, lecturing her parents: “I need to have a talk with you two. You are not keeping the earth healthy. I just went upstairs, and I found the bathroom light on, and your bedroom light was on too.”
It’s hard to criticize her tone when she’s so right. I just hope she doesn’t learn about CO2 emissions any time soon.
30 Aug
Everyone’s a critic
Parents need to have pretty thick skin–EVERYONE has an opinion about how you are raising your children.
I was reminded of this early today when we brought the potty chair out of storage for Olivia. She has been telling us when she needs to have her diaper changed, and she’s even been giving us a bit of warning in some cases. We thought she might be interested in this option, but our efforts haven’t been supported by all.
“You’re potty training Olivia?” The voice dripped with incredulous skepticism. “She’s not even two yet.”
The critic here?
My four year old.
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