Ankle Biter

If I have mentioned this before, here it is again. Theo has two passions in life: food and people. He is both a face-stuffer and a little socialite. I predict some potential hedonism in his future.

Toys have held no special fascination for him, and he does not entertain himself well. The two ways in which I accomplish tasks while he is awake is a) do them while holding him on my hip, or b) stick him in the high chair with finger food. I've gotten pretty creative with food he can feed to himself. We started with Cheerios but now we do tofu, grapes, bananas, raisins and anything I happen to be making for dinner that can be divided into bite-sized pieces and picked up by small, chubby paws.

Jono nicknamed him Ankle Biter the other day, because he's always at my ankles tugging on my pant leg. Oh, and I guess he did literally bite me on my leg three times recently when I didn't pick him up fast enough. I'm not kidding. Now when he approaches me as I'm busy with something and Jono is home, I yell, "COME GET HIM, HE'S GOING TO BITE ME." My voice shakes a little, and the child is 20 pounds with dandelion fluff for hair. 

Here he is, the little stinker, at his typical station:

 

Notice in the third shot he's getting a little more serious about getting picked up. Watch out. Oh, the innocence.

orchards and stuff

Every fall we make a trek out to at least two orchards, usually with extended family. Our first stop this year was Robinette's, right outside our city. This is the place we choose to go with just us - it's close and not too elaborate.

We ate pumpkin-spice doughnuts, gawked at the giant apple and went down the wagon slide a few times, like we always do. Although all of this was a first time for Theo!

Normally we'd also squeeze in a hike on the nearby trails, but it was getting late and our boys were wheezy. (The onset of respiratory problems in my children is the only part of fall that I hate.)

We were planning to purchase some cider at Robinette's for a few toasty warm drinks (rum n' cider, anyone?) later on, but with the drought and all the price of cider was ridiculous. Sad. And not just because I won't be drinking rum and cider... more importantly I feel bad for the farmers.

Second stop this year was Fruit Ridge Farms with my side of the family, which we'd done one other time with them. At this one we went the whole nine yards: doughnuts, cider and a hay ride, the duration of which Brett pontificated about his love for the outdoors and the soul-healing, peaceful activities that are often set there. (He whined the whole time.)

We were a little stressed at the beginning of the hayride because Theo seemed fussy, but as long as my dad was letting him jump up and down in his lap, and no one tried to shush him when he yelled for extended periods at the top of his lungs, he was fine. Not sure we can say the same of our fellow riders, but oh well.

You may notice the reappearance of the mini baby scarf, which Theo allows me to put on him, while Jude did not (other than in the hospital directly after his birth, when he was in no position to fight me).

Now the leaves are mostly gone from the trees and we're preparing for winter. I smelled it for the first time two days ago while taking out the garbage, which initially gave me a little thrill. Hoping to milk that feeling into January, but I'm doubtful this will happen.

Happy fall, y'all.

Apples to Apples

Earth First Farms in Berrien, Michigan

Last weekend, we went to a Harvest Party at an organic orchard called Earth First Farms.  There was live music, free Mexican food prepared by the farm's employees, cider, beer and hayrides.  We picked a few of our own apples, but mostly dug through the seconds crates to find the imperfect ones for making pies and apple sauce.  

Mom and I spent a Wednesday night the following week furiously chopping and cooking apples, then smooshing them into sauce that we poured into old marinara-sauce jars I'd saved.  We froze about 38 quarts, and decided not to try that again after both of us had already put in a full day at the office.  We were delirious by the time we were saucing up the last batch at midnight.  Mom was hysterically laughing while I yelled.

Anyway.  Back to the orchard.

In the second photo, Jude is standing in a field and covering his eyes with his hands.  This was his way of "privately" doing his business.  What, you didn't think no one could see you when you covered your eyes as a kid?   

He met a little friend, too - Abram.  They threw hay at each other on the hayride and had a hat-tossing contest afterward.  When asked what he did at the orchard, he says, "I threw hay."

The weekend after that one we hit up another farm near Cadillac, Michigan with Jono's dad and step-mom, Jan.  Jude rode a pony for the first time and we tromped around in the pumpkin patch for awhile.

Though most of us weren't injured that day, Jan didn't leave the farm unscathed.  First she was bit by a donkey who we thought was trying to cuddle with her.  Even after the bite incident, she bravely escorted Jude into a giant blow-up pumpkin filled with screaming children... twice.

After the second time as the two of them crawled out of the entrance on their hands and knees, I laughed to see her hair flying everywhere and her dislodged headband sitting on top of her head like a crown.  She gets the Grandma of the Week Award, for sure.

You just can't cram in too many orchards and pumpkin farms in October, we don't think.  Especially when it's 70 degrees outside.

Last three photos by Jan Klooster (thanks, Jan!)

A Hike with Pops

That's his happy sound.