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Cleverder!
Ansel was eating the piece of bread I gave him at dinner last night, and remarked that I put a lot of butter on it. Julie conceded I am much more generous than she is with the butter.
"Papa is leaderer!" he said; his speech, though complex, is not always clear. He still struggles with some pronunciation, and we had no idea what he was saying. ( Read more... ) -
Eighteen Hundred and Thirty-Seven Straight Days with the Top Down.
Is there anything my blue convertible cannot do?
This morning, I dropped Ansel off at his daycare on Sherwood St in Ann Arbor, where it looked like there were 9 pristine inches of snow on the ground. I had followed tracks halfway down the street, but they disappeared just as the road went uphill; so there I was, blazing a trail through snow that ( Read more... ) -
Eighteen Hundred and Twenty-Four Straight Days with the Top Down.
Today was one of my best morning commutes of all time. After a blizzard that never lived up to its expectations in the Detroit area, the expressways were covered in snow but devoid of traffic. Once my neighbor had plowed our street (with eight inches of snow; remember, the "S" has only four inches of ground clearance), I took off. A bit of a wobble ( Read more... ) -
On the Subtleties of Language
Ansel has three clear concepts of temperature: cold, warm, and hot. It applies to food (naturally!), his bed, the weather, the shower. Earlier this month, he complained that the water was hot, and he wanted it warmer. I was confused by that for a while, although I did eventually understand he wants it colder when he asks for warmer.
Then, later, I ( Read more... ) -
On Knowing Your Own Strengths.
Ansel was playing with Easter egg hay the other day, making a fairly big mess. Julie, who was watching this, let him make the mess if he agreed to clean it up later. "Sure," he said. Sure he will.
When later come, he protested. "But it's a lot of work for me to do!" Well, you knew that when you made the mess. "Help me, mama!" No.
"But mama, if you ( Read more... ) -
Seventeen Hundred and Seventy-Two Straight Days with the Top Down.
Last week's weather forecast included snow, but no real low temperatures and no snow that would linger; very clearly not worth putting the winter tires on the car. But, delightfully, when I was stopped at the light on Rawsonville Rd on Friday night, snowflakes were falling down. Lightly enough, and sporadically enough, that most people who weren't ( Read more... )
