New lunchbox

Oma's visit

Alisa's mom visited from FL last week, which was quite a treat since the distance means we see each other too rarely. Oma and Graham had all kinds of fun together. The first night she was in town, Graham wanted to hold Oma's hand while he was eating, which I think pretty much melted her into a puddle right there.

Oma traced Graham's hand on his easel, which he thought was so cool that he kept asking her to do it again. He's since been attempting to trace his own hand (it's more difficult than it looks, he has discovered!).

Our biggest adventure during Oma's visit though was apple picking! Fall is definitely here, with its cool, crisp days and now, a refrigerator STOCKED with way too many apples. Next up: an applesauce-making afternoon.

Chatterbox

G has been talking for a while now, but sometimes we still can't get over his newfound ability to express his thoughts. It's hilarious! It's fun! And it's just so cute. Today, after a full morning running around downtown with Jeff, looking at diggers working on light rail construction, stopping into a coffee shop and watching a singer, and walking to the farmer's market for raspberries, green beans, and corn, Graham announced, "Fun summer day."

When Jeff asked him, "Did we see a singer this morning?" Graham answered, "We saw TWO singers. One at coffee shop. One at Farmer's Market." And he was right! He's absorbing every little thing around him.

He's obsessed with library books (yay!) and could be read to for hours.

His brain is a complete sponge. When we're out and about, he points to nearly everything:

"What's that?"

"What that say, mama?"

"Where going?"

"What's that sound?"

"Who's that?"

And when he hears a song he likes on the radio, he always asks, "Song's name? What called?" Some times I have to make up answers. Often, in the car, he demands, "Louder, mama!"

Though sometimes it would be nice to have a respite from the constant questioning, it's also so clear that he's craving information, understanding, and learning, so of course I want to answer his every question clearly and promptly.

That whole chatterbox phase people talk about? We're in it. Big time. The other day mama and Graham just happened to have a lunch date at a restaurant called the Chatterbox Pub. As we were leaving, he pointed to the sign and asked what it said. So I told him letter by letter, then explained what Chatterbox meant:

"A Chatterbox is someone who talks a lot. Graham, YOU are a Chatterbox!"

The whole way home he giggled and repeated, "I am a chatterbox. I am a chatterbox. I am a chatterbox. I am a chatterbox. I am a chatterbox." I think he got the point.