The Small Things

Continuing in the vein of haphazardly-written blog posts, here's a little update on the creatures under 4' tall in this house (not including insect life, which is copious):

Rosalind is doing well. I can't believe she's not already 4 because she's certainly earned it. She is so smart and funny. I post a bit less of her on Instagram these days, even though I kind of feel bad about it, for two reasons: 1) her noteworthiness is mostly verbal these days, and 2) she's at an age where she's aware of herself, so I always try to ask her permission to take a picture and it isn't always appropriate.

Post-first-day-of-school ice cream treat

Doing "yoga" with the kitties

She can write her name (Ros) yay

 Anyway, like I said. She's smart and funny. And thoughtful and helpful and still very emotionally tender. She's a lot like me that way, I guess, which worries me a little, but oh well. She started preschool earlier this month and was thrilled to death, but we pulled her out after two weeks (long story, but in an appropriately vague nutshell, Sam and I didn't feel like it was the best fit). We will be starting up a neighborhood rotating preschool program pretty soon and hopefully that will work well enough to carry us to kindergarten.

Remy is...Remy. I love that boy, I really do, but MAN he is difficult. I guess that's the trade off for being a pretty easy baby. Right now we are trying to focus on just getting him to express his needs and emotions in ways that do not involve blood-curdling screams. He has somewhere between 60-80 words but he doesn't use many of them regularly. He likes acorns and bubbles and his puppy and is constantly eating. He is afraid of almost everything loud or tall. He's also overly confident in his physical abilities and is frequently cracking his head on things. This child, I swear.

Remy

"Find your OWN little things, Greg!"

Snooze

Starbuck got fixed the day before the storm, and he's been getting chubbier lately. He's calming down a little and getting less kitten-y, spending most of his day snoozing on windowsills and I love it. He is afraid of bubbles and loves to eat.

Leg

Queequeg is not fixed yet because the fixin' place closed temporarily for minor storm damage, so she will go in about a month to have that taken care of. She likes playing with bubbles with Remy and will leap to pop them, which makes everyone laugh. She is a devious escape artist and is too smart for her own good. She drives me crazy but she is so soft and loves kneading my squish while she purrs, so I love her anyway.

Bubbles