It Might Not Look Like He's Playing Hide-and-Seek...

But he is.

Rami's never quite gotten "hide-and-seek."

When you say, "Where's Rami?"
he puts his hands, or his spoons, or his blankie, on the side of his head.
Or the top.

He thinks you can't see him,

and he likes to watch your face while you "search" for him.

He pulls the hidey-things away from his face with such delighted flair,
the seeker is so charmed,
and Rami gives such a nice hearty laugh,
that it doesn't really matter if he knows exactly how to play the game.

Plus, that crooked smile is to die for.

Injustice

Rami stole Asher's fork at breakfast this morning.

The injustice was so horrific
that even when David got Rami a new fork,
and returned Asher's to him,
the outcry continued.

In a Clinton-esque move, David extended a treaty of extra syrup for the waffles.

It didn't help.

As for me? I just kept snapping pictures.

After all, such incomprehensible injustice really must be documented.

You know, for the greater good and all.

30/365 - "Love-and-Kiss Fest"

When Rami woke up from his Shabbat morning nap,

he was in need of a good snuggle.

I was still napping, so David slid him in next to me for some hugs.

Rami is NEVER happier than when he's cuddling with his Ima.

Pretty soon, our quiet snuggle turned into a love-and-kiss fest,

with Rami cooing, "Ima!" every time I kissed his face.

Just like the good old days,

except now he says my name.

(Oh, how I adore this boy.)

Flour + Water + Yeast + Butter + Sugar = Shabbat Morning Love

Parenting Lessons Learned Early:

The way to a boy's heart

is through

his stomach.

28/365 - Who Needs Toys?

Who needs toys

when you have belts, scarves, and ties?

Ashi and Rami have invented a little game:
Ashi grabs a blankie, scarf, or in this case, Abba's belt.
Rami grabs on to the end.

Ashi runs.
Rami gets pulled along till he falls down.
Rami gives a big belly laugh, picks himself up, and the game starts again.

Given that it involves running ripshot with otherwise grown-up objects,

plus the obligatory roughhousing,

and adds in, of course, belly laughs,

it is an awesome, awesome game.

24/365 - Tackle!

24/365 - Tackle!
Originally uploaded by Leigh Ann Kopans

The boys are starting to play together more and more.

I think it was David who taught the boys to tackle one another.

Rami, (I assume due to his smaller size and slower speed,)

has developed a pretty good strategy for tackling his big brother -

grab onto his clothes,

hold on for dear life,

and hope he falls down before you do.

The spikes running down the back of Asher's dinosaur costume made perfect little handles.

Asher didn't stand a chance.

Normally, the tackle-ee has a look of horror and despair on his face (like in this shot,)

while the tackle-er wears an expression of total glee.

Today, they both seemed delighted to be playing the game.

23/365 - On the Shabbat Agenda:

23/365 - On the Shabbat Agenda:
Originally uploaded by Leigh Ann Kopans

1 - Sit around in the living room.
2 - Hug and kiss my babies.

So glad we made time for THAT.

Lunchtime Lessons

David: "Asher, where did all your blueberries go?"

(Asher looks guilty.)

(Asher not-so-stealthily shoves another blueberry into his pocket.)

David: "Ashi, food goes in our...."

Asher: "...mouth."

David: "...not in our..."

Asher: "...pockets."

(Asher grins.)

1/365 - "Come, cuddle your head on my shoulder, dear..."

Come, cuddle your head on my shoulder, dear,
Your head like the golden-rod,
And we will go sailing away from here
To the beautiful Land of Nod.
Away from life's hurry, and flurry, and worry,
Away from earth's shadows and gloom,
To a world of fair weather we'll float off together,
Where roses are always in bloom.

Just shut up your eyes, and fold your hands,
Your hands like the leaves of a rose,
And we will go sailing to those fair lands
That never an atlas shows.
On the North and the West they are bounded by rest,
On the South and the East, by dreams;
'Tis the country ideal, where nothing is real,
But everything only seems.

Just drop down the curtains of your dear eyes,
Those eyes like a bright blue-bell,
And we will sail out under starlit skies,
To the land where the fairies dwell.

Down the river of sleep, our barque shall sweep,
Till it reaches that mystical Isle
Which no man hath seen, but where all have been,
And there we will pause awhile.
I will croon you a song as we float along,
To that shore that is blessed of God,
Then, ho! for that fair land, we're off for that rare land,
That beautiful Land of Nod.

~"The Beautiful Land of Nod"

by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Sometimes, Food Really Is the Same as Love

My great-great Grandmother Schneider emigrated from Germany to America

over one hundred years ago.

Like all immigrants, she didn't carry much with her

but the clothes on her back

and the information in her head.

In the Schneider family, winter meant sugar cookies.

The recipe traveled from Germany with my great-great Grandmother.

Family legend holds that my great-Grandmother discovered

that the children ate more of these sugar cookies when she frosted and decorated them.

(And being German, we very much want the children to EAT.)

My Nana learned that children will help bake and decorate the cookies

if doing so was a condition for getting to eat them

(Or, famously, "If you don't help, you don't eat.")

My father learned that if one disregards the called-for amount of vanilla

and instead just pours in a whole darn bottle,

the cookies are much richer and tastier.

I learned that if one replaces the called-for margarine with

(probably the originally called-for) real butter, the result is richer and tastier still.

In 2009, are these cookies different from the day they made the trip over from Germany?

Sure.

Are they that much more delicious?

Absolutely.

For all their changes and embellishments,

these are, more than ever,

the Schneider family cookies.

Very much different from the original

for the frosting, vanilla, and real butter, yes,

but they are ten times that rich

for the generations of love and care that was poured into making them.

Personally, I can't imagine any way to make these cookies any more delectable.

But I'll guarantee you that my boys will -

and this is only the beginning.

Sometimes You Just Need a Little Recharge

Rami is our snuggler.

He plays along with the best of them -

rough-and-tumbling his way all through the house

right along with his big brother -

but every few minutes,

he'll head over to Abba or Ima

and lay his head on a shoulder

for a little recharge of love.

There's no particular reason that,

at that moment,

he's in need of a snuggle.

But it fixes him right up

and off he goes again

to make some more mischief.

(That is, until the next recharge.)

Even though it doesn't happen as often as every few minutes for grownups,

I think we are all in need of a recharge sometimes.

Winter break has been a chance for me to spend more quality time with the boys.

I've also been suffering through an acute bout of writer's block.

(And photographer's...something-or-other.)

But we've still been taking photos

and making magic.

So stay tuned for stories from all our December adventures...

as soon as we're all finished recharging.

Baby Shoes

On Friday,

after a beautiful morning

of rough-and-tumble playing with Rami,

I noticed that

his shoes have holes in the toes.

These shoes do not belong to him alone,

they first belonged to his brother.

We first put them on each of the boys

in order to ensure that their socks stayed on.

As my grandmother, Gram, cradled a two-month-old Asher,

she taught me,

"If you keep their feet warm, honey,

that'll go a long way."

(That is the wisest piece of parenting advice I've ever received.)

So on the shoes went, keeping two sets of toes (my absolute favorite baby part, hands down) toasty warm.

Later, their tops were mercilessly dragged along the ground

by not one, but two, expert crawlers.

The soles were the next to be worn out by two sets of first steps,

not much farther than a year apart.

And now, as Rami becomes an expert walker,

gaining speed daily,

learning to stop, pivot, restart,

relying less and less on couches, tables, and our legs to anchor him,

these soft-soled baby shoes have walked their last steps.

I can't really explain

why I've devoted an entire blog post to these well-worn scraps of leather.

It's just that...

They kept those precious toes warm and safe

for the better part of two years.

A daily part of the boys' babyhood has now left us.

And I didn't even see it coming.

Does Asher Have a Future in Coaching?

A recent walking training session with Rami:

"Are You Hoping for a Girl?"

We have two beautiful, happy, delicious little boys.

So, when my belly started to swell

and the news of this new little one started to get around,

right after the "B'sha'ah Tovah!" often came inquiries like:

"Are you hoping for a girl?"

"Were you trying for a girl?"

"Don't you want just one baby girl?"

"It really doesn't matter," I'd reply, grinning.

I love my boys.

A girl would be wonderful, to be sure.

But my world would be complete if I had a dozen children

and all turned out to be boys.

Truthfully, at the heart of the matter, is this:

we have learned (fortunately and unfortunately) to consider every healthy pregnancy

a miracle from G-d.

So, there are a lot of things I hoped for this child.

I hoped for health.

I hoped for contentment.

I hoped for loving family and friends.

I hoped for a peaceful life.

But never once - not once - did I honestly hope for a specific gender.

(But! This does not preclude my obsession with ultrasounds,

and catching a glimpse of babies-on-the-way as much as possible.

Or my desire to know every little detail about baby.)

Yesterday, my parents, Auntie Amanda and Uncle Steve, and Gram

volunteered to take the boys out for a day of fun

so that David and I could spend some time together.

My thoughtful and generous husband booked us a mini 3-D scan.

As we watched a tiny heart pumping, legs flexing, fingers grasping,

we marveled.

As we looked at this new little one's tiny face,

every hope we've had for each of our children

was fervently renewed.

So, as things progress (G-d willing,)

we'll continue to marvel and to give thanks,

to hope and to pray

for health, contentment, love and peace,

for this baby,

this daughter,

this sister,

this girl.

Giving Thanks

Thou hast given so much to me,

Give one thing more, - a grateful heart;
Not thankful when it pleaseth me,
As if Thy blessings had spare days,
But such a heart whose pulse may be Thy praise.

~George Herbert

Thanksgiving is a favorite holiday around here.
It is a day in which our hearts,
are given a chance to rest,
enjoy the full company of those we most love,
and reflect on a full year
of such abundant pleasures and happinesses
that we almost cannot believe it.

This year we spent our day being especially thankful for:

Family gathered together from near and far

to celebrate with food in abundance.

Two beautiful, healthy, thriving boys,

and a miracle that is at once so small and so great

that my heart skips a beat every time I consider my gratitude

for it in particular:

someone new

who, G-d willing, we're expecting to meet (in person) in April.

This year, we're not only giving thanks for the miracles in our lives,

but for our ability and our propensity

to lift up our hearts in thanks.

Happy Thanksgiving.

One Year Old

Dear Rami,

Today you are one year old.

A year ago today, you arrived into this world as a person in your own rite.

My arms were the first to hold you. Abba's face was the first you saw.

Your eyes were wide as you took in the outside world

that held the echo of familiarity but was still wholly alien.

After we snuggled for a moment, you were taken away for silly things

like weighing, measuring, checking-over.

You protested, screaming and kicking, outraged to be removed from my arms,

and loudly discontent until you returned there.

(I really appreciated that.)

Within a few days of knowing you in person,

We were referring to you as an intense child.

When you were happy, you were very happy.

When you were upset, you were very upset.

That is still true.

Most of the time, the whole world is your delight.

New foods and tastes,

The simplest toy,

The briefest game of hide-and-seek or tickle-attack,

And your gigantic, gorgeous, infectious belly laugh fills the room.

(And when you are angry, there is no mistaking it.)

As easily as you are pleased by just about everything,

there is nothing – NOTHING – you love more than your family.

Your earliest and strongest attachment was to me – Ima.

Nothing brought you more happiness than snuggling up close,

sleeping away those cold first winter months of your life on my chest.

Even now, just a glance from me can cause the most beautiful,

rapturous smile to spread across your face.

As you grew a bit more aware, you realized that Abba,

whose features your face mirrors so closely,

is the best entertainer, and prepares the best dinners of all.

(He is also a sucker for prolonged cuddling, of which you are particularly fond.)

But neither of these compares to your complete and total adoration of Asher.

Your big brother can do no wrong.

Even when he is pushing you to the ground or stealing your dinner,

You are infatuated with him.

You long to play with his toys alongside him,

to walk like him, talk like him, eat like him.

In the last month, you two have become playmates, copying one another, and creating

the most beautiful sounds of little-boy conversational laughter

that so happily fill our whole house.

When he congratulates you, “Good walking, Rami!”

your face lights up as though you had just been awarded the Nobel Prize.

I often call you “my heart.”

Because of you Asher has a brother.

Because of you I understand the joy of having a child that so resembles my beloved.

Because of you I have experienced the ability to love one child

just as fiercely as, yet totally differently fromanother.

Because of you I came back to life.

Because of you I believe in miracles.

Happy first birthday, my sweet boy.

I can’t wait to see what the next year has in store.

Love, Ima

Pumpkin Challah

Prep:

1/2 c water, 3/4 c pumpkin puree, 3 lg eggs, 3 tbsp light brown sugar, 3 tbsp canola oil, 4 2/3 c flour, 2 tsp salt, 1/4 tsp ground ginger, 1/4 tsp nutmeg, 1/4 tsp ground cinnamon, 1 tbsp bread machine yeast.

Mix:

Bread machine dough cycle (See? I'm not superwoman.)

Braid.

Bake.

Delight.

YUM.
(You're welcome.)

Failed Chanukah Cards*

Apparently,

there is no worse thing

I could ask of the boys

in the entire universe

than to sit together,

hug one another,

and smile.

____

*No, this isn't our "real" Chanukah card - I'll post that one next month. But these *are* the cards that will go in the boys' keepsake boxes, for sure.