Something about porridge makes my boy dance. Too bad Iris can only enjoy oat bran by vicarious means.

Rainy Wednesday afternoon best spent in the sack --Isaac's, to be exact. Isaac has story-time with Mommy, while Iris drifts off to sleep.

Those changing table exchanges... With the elderly-fitting [high] waist-band, Iris just looks good in shades of blue. And by the look on her face, you can tell she thinks so, too.

Thank you cards still going out... Despite an afternoon dispute over Ada's stuffed animals, perhaps these two could've-been-baby-gap models will settle their differences for future dates, at least for the sake of their mothers' picture folders. Perhaps Isaac will decide to wear some britches next time.

Today we celebrate your new age, Daddy. Hope it's a memorable birthday for you.
Love, Isaac & Iris (and Lorraine, too)

The trouble with trucks. On our way to the beach, Isaac's refusal to take even the shortest of naps during the 13 hour drive led to his and everyone else's delirium. A circular argument ensued. We tried to look at it as a knock-knock joke as it spanned the final 40 minutes of our journey. It began with "Dadda". To which Patrick responds, "What?" And then, the punchline: "TRUCK!" It was probably more of a demand than a one-liner, just based on the tears of frustration in his tone. But we tried to recognize the humor he could've been going for.
A ten truck pileup. Anybody messes with this boy's de-icer or recycling truck will have hell to pay. So please admire from afar.

As it gets colder this week our thoughts return to the seashore. It's Iris' first time, yet she acts as though she's been here before.

Beach house enchantment. There does seem to be a moment in which you realize that she sees you. She raises an eyebrow. The slipping of a coo. So easily we forget what it's like to be in the presence of something so breathtakingly new.

Turning 2 with sand between your toes. We left the house a little after 4am, only to return back to the house at 4:15 due to the realization that we forgot the lemon (birthday) pound cake. It probably should've been left behind. What kind of cake gets half-eaten during a week at the beach?