Miracle of Miracles and The Tattooed Pop-Pop

They are all asleep.

All of them.

Every male person who occupies my apartment, snoozing away. Clearly a miracle. So I'm going to sit and read my bookclub selection after I post this blog. (Bookclub meets tomorrow night and I'm on page, let's see, 14. Oh goody. I'll let you know if I should even bother going.) And maybe I'll fold some laundry.

I'm officially sorry I haven't been posting. I haven't felt very inspired. It's hard to imagine me not having material to write about. I have ooddles of it. I have children. But what I don't have oodles of is time. Or anyone to clean my apartment. So I chip away at the overwhelming mess and wish for sleep in the midst of my everyday work. When I get to the computer, I look at available real estate. But I feel like I've finally exhausted the list of homes for sale in our price range and in the area we are looking for, so that search should take up less of my computer time. In any case, I will try to get back in the swing. Please forgive the delay.

So on to more interesting items in the agenda for today's post: PopPop's tattoo. PopPop is a die-hard Yankees fan. (Aren't we all?) And to prove his dedication to such a fine team of athletes, he, a retired Baptist minister, showed up at our house last week with the team logo displayed proudly on his upper arm. He shocked us further by announcing unabashedly that he wished for Kindred to follow in his footsteps. I caught this footage on film; a rare appearance of the upper arms of two burly baseball fans.






And here is Elias, crawling guy that he has happily become, in his favorite forbidden place: the kitchen. (God only knows what he'll find on the floor in there.)


I used to post lots of pictures of Kindred in his high chair. I thought I would do it again, because the other day I noticed how giant he looks in the thing nowadays. His feet dangle from the bottom. If we didn't have such a small table, and if his defiance didn't take major hold of him during mealtimes, I would say we should move him to a booster. But for now he'll just have to crowd into the high chair. My huge little guy.