One of the ways that Jason and I are very, very different is in how we approach food. I love to experiment and am ever trying to cajole my family into eating “the same thing” but a more healthful version. Jason is opposite: if he finds something he likes, he sticks with it—he does not see the point in deviating from the tried and true. To his credit, he does always try what I make—and will keep his opinions mostly to himself for the boys’ sake. My latest attempt was (the really delicious, in my opinion) Black Bean Brownies. (FWIW, Jason prefers Betty Crocker’s Frosted Brownies.)

Jason: Interesting.
Me: Do you like it?
Jason: I don’t not like it.
Simon: What did you say?
Jason: I said, “I don’t not like it.”
Simon: What does that mean?
Jason: It’s called “diplomacy.”
Simon: What does that mean?
Jason: It means I’m trying to be nice.
Simon: Oh. It kind of sounds like you don’t like it.
Jason (to me): You’re loving this, aren’t you?

I finally admitted to myself that Clara has nearly grown out of her 0–3 months size clothes. I was so sad about that and have all week been putting off the task of boxing the clothes up and getting out the next size. But now I’m sitting here two-thirds of the way through sorting through and folding the 3–6 months size clothes—some handed down by beloved friends, a few saved from her brothers, some brand new as gifts for Clara, one or two (or, um, several) I couldn’t stop myself from buying. She is snoozing in the bassinet nearby, and, oh good grief, it is taking every single last bit of willpower I have to stop myself from waking her up and changing her clothes three or four times in a row. For the next three months, at least, our little Mei Mei is going to be one stylish chica.

So liquid sidewalk chalk is just like sidewalk chalk, except you apply it with brushes (or leaves, if you’re Simon and feeling imaginative). It’s easy to whip up a batch and lots of fun to paint with. You can find the recipe on many different blogs (I found mine here by way of Pinterest).

1 part water
1 part cornstarch
food coloring

Mix up the water and cornstarch. Pour it in muffin tins or small cups, and add food coloring. I left several cups white, but, of course, all the colors eventually got mixed together.

In keeping with my new addiction to natural dyes and because I was almost out of food coloring, I thought I would try to make a few natural colors. Turmeric produced a nice yellow, but for some reason the paprika didn’t mix very well (to make red). I think next time I will try the natural coloring by preparing the color in the water (like you would to dye eggs) before mixing the water with the cornstarch; I imagine the colors will be really muted, but I could be surprised.

Dishwasher and washing machine swishing, soapy water in the sink and a bucket for the kitchen floor, Monday seems like a good day to open up the windows, crank up the music, and get my head straight and my house clean (well, cleaner, anyway).

(And, no, this picture doesn’t really have anything to do with all of that, but isn’t she precious?)

Ian: Knock knock.
Me: Who’s there?
Ian: Owl who?
Simon: [Interrupting] Knock knock!
Me: Who’s there?
Simon: Banana.
Me: Banana who?
Simon: Knock knock!
Me: Who’s there?
Simon: Banana.
Me: Banana who?
Simon: Okay. Laugh this time!
Me: [Laughing.]
Simon: You say, “Knock knock.”
Me: Knock knock!
Simon: Who’s there?
Ian: It’s Mommy! Hi, Mommy.

It’s officially spring, my almost-favorite season (I imagine fall will always hold the top spot in my heart). In the spirit of spring cleaning and fresh starts, I’m finally clearing out my RSS feed and posting links that I keep meaning to share.

I am so glad that Kerri introduced me to Simcha Fischer’s writing. Among my favorite articles so far are “Eight Lessons of Pregnancy That Everyone—Yes, Everyone!—Can Use” (seriously, such a good read for anyone) and “A Little Proof of a Large Thing.”

This yarn trail is such a fun idea. I am thinking I might use it for an Easter egg hunt this year, since we don’t have any birthdays coming up.

I’m always looking for strategies to feed my increasingly picky eaters. (I don’t understand why they are so picky, apart from the fact that, well, they’re kids. I seriously have tried everything I’ve ever heard of/read about/felt to be true for instilling not-pickiness in them. And yet . . .)

Probably the most beautiful blessing I have ever heard—especially precious as we have welcomed Clara into our family and as we anticipate her baptism in the next couple of months.

One of those important moments when philosophy meets reality.

I admit I am rather proud of the fact that I know the difference between an excavator and a payloader and the names of all the Thomas the Train friends. I, too, speak boy.

Simon wanted a beard like Daddy today. So why not?