a little bit of April

Fudgesicles are Eowyn’s current obsession. I wish I could make myself love them in that they have about one quarter of the calories retained by my nightly habit of “Berry Me, Please!” ice-cream and pretzels. Fudgesicles could save my hips a lot of hassle. Apparently, for Eowyn, however, something about that icy glop-on-stick, masquerading as dessert, inspires her reluctant ingestion of suspicious green vegetables. For that, I am grateful.

Meanwhile, Kincaid has emerged into, as my mother impugned, “a White Tornado”. Grant it, I am unfamiliar with this behavioral descriptive- (Perhaps it is a colloquial expression employed by blonde baby boomers?) Regardless, it does seem to capture the exhaustive, destructive enigmatic, willful 17-month old nature he has adopted. What a shock! To witness his tantrums and throwing of toys across a room with commendable precision but reprehensible temper, you would never believe this child smiled beguilingly (and silently) into the camera’s lens six months ago. At present, he would make a far more convincing “model” for Ritalin rather than Colace. Nevertheless, we adore him even more than six months ago. We love his low, contagious laugh. We love his agility and impressive crib escapes. We love his hugs and wide-mouthed kisses. We love his large feet and shark teeth. We love that he still loves his bottle. And we love that he walks around singing “Hallelujah, Thine the Glory.” That alone redeems everything else.