"That's Not Food!"

Andy has given up his afternoon nap.  I had it good there for a stretch of time.  Both boys napped simultaneously for two hours while I engaged in my own personal pursuits, including but not limited to loading the dishwasher, watching "The Chew," and throwing back a couple of cold ones.  I kid about that last part.  I have yet to day drink while being home with my children.  Perhaps it's just so I can reassure my working mother counterparts, "It's not like staying home is a drunken dance party."  It's not like it's all fun, games, and wine.  It's mostly sweeping.  Have breakfast, sweep. Give the kids a snack, sweep.  Lunching leads to sweeping.  More snacking, more sweeping.  And dinner.  Sweeping. For that good stretch of time where both boys napped at the same time, I would close the door behind me as I left Andy in his room and literally perform a fist pump.  YESSS!  Time free of noise and children and whining an...

The other day, I cracked open a few of the windows in the house.  "Why are you doing that, Mommy?"  Andy asked. I replied, "To let in some fresh air." Andy's face immediately fell.  Panicked, he exclaimed, "Oh no!  ARE WE RUNNING OUT OF FRESH AIR?" The other other day, we went to the big aquarium in the sporting goods store, the one with the big glass walls and the open top.  Chris was holding Alex and lifted him up ever so slightly to let him dip his fingers into the aquarium water.  (Inadvisable, I thought to myself.)  A moment later, Andy noticed and started screaming.  "NO DADDY!  A FISH IS GOING TO BITE ALEX!  STOP!!!" And then, the other other other day, we went to the pumpkin farm, where Chris wheeled Alex's stroller right up to the rickety cage walls of the goats in the petting zoo zone.  (Inadvisable yet again, I thought to myself, noting the bevy of graham crackers and raisins on Alex's stroller tray and the hungry...

Alex has his first official obsession.  Even as I'm typing this, I think that might be a lie.  Surely, there's been an obsession before this one?  Does his undying devotion to string cheese count as an obsession?  His reflexive habit of emptying buckets and containers so that he can put them on his head like a helmet?  His pushy interest in fisting soggy bits of food and trying to shove them into MY mouth as if commanding, "Here.  If it's so good, then YOU eat it."  No, those aren't quite obsessions.  Not like this one.  Not like his absolute, undeniable fixation with: Pumpkins.  My pumpkin LOVES pumpkins. "Pumpkin" (pronounced bpumbum) may even be Alex's first real word after Mama, Dada, Anda, and More.  These are all the words that Alex has, spoken only very sparingly, and I am becoming mildly worried about the whole thing.  "How many words can Alex say?"  the nurse asked at his one year appointment back in June, whe...