At four months, Clara is the smiliest baby you ever did meet (ahem, even though she’s not smiling here). And, more than that, her smile is mesmerizing—if you catch her smiling at you, you’ll lose your train of thought and your knees will go all weak and you’ll just beg the whole world to stop so you can take a moment to catch your breath and soak in her cuteness. Or maybe that’s just me. She rolls from her back to her tummy, but so far not the other way. She sleeps on her tummy (ALL night! A child who sleeps all night? What is this wonderful creature?). She has so much to say. So much. All the time. She sucks her thumb—both of them, actually, if she can manage it. She is incredibly patient with two rambunctious big brothers who are always in her space. How we love our laid back, sweet-natured little girl.

I’m an aunt! My sweet, squishable, wrinkly, adorable nephew Colton was born Wednesday night, just before midnight. A zillion more pictures coming soon.

Me: I’m thinking of something green.
Simon: A tree!
Me: That’s right! Your turn.

Simon: I’m thinking of something yellow.
Me: Is it something you drive?
Simon: No.
Me: Is it something you play with?
Simon: No.
[Several more questions, all answered with “no.”]
Simon: It’s corn!

Me: Okay, Ian, it’s your turn buddy.
Ian: My turn! I’m thinking ‘bout ants. . . .

Me: Okay. I’m thinking of something red.
Simon: That’s my favorite color!
Me: I know, buddy.
Simon: Is it my lawnmower?
Me: Nope.
Simon: My lawnmower is red.
Me: Yep, but that’s not what I’m thinking of.
[Several more rounds until he guesses correctly.]

Simon: I’m thinking of something brown and bushy. . . .

Ian: My turn! I’m thinking ‘bout my faaavorite color. Broooowwwn.
Simon: I’m thinking of something brown.
Me: [After narrowing it down.] Is it a train?
Simon: It’s not the train, but it’s close. It’s what the train runs on [without waiting for me to guess]: the tracks!

Ian: My turn! I’m thinking ‘bout brown. My faaavorite color.  I’m thinking ‘bout brown trains.

A series of portraits of the kids.

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?