At least he’s not allergic to New Jersey

After weeks and weeks of non-stop work for Jeff, we celebrated Thursday night over tacos, chips, and guacamole that we had him home for the holidays until the first week of January. We are so happy. Also, Arthur learned the beauty of dipping and discovered his love for guacamole. I couldn’t agree more, on both counts.


Friday we were busy with school and a little Christmas shopping for Arthur and me. As much as I love my time with both of the boys, I always truly enjoy my time with just one of them. It’s a different dynamic and just such a treat.


Friday night then we had a simple dinner for the boys, and Jeff and I ordered in later once the kids were in bed. They ate split pea soup and a some bread with butter, which is only relevant because right afterwards, this happened:


Arthur’s face exploded. He eats peas all the time, loves them in fact, but for a week or so he’s had a little rash on his cheeks that wouldn’t quite go away. After lunch on Friday, which included peas, a rash again. And then after dinner this happened. He was scratching his face but otherwise happy. He honestly never even fussed once. I, however, was completely unnerved. Either he has developed a new allergy or something in the food he ate was contaminated with nuts (which seams unlikely in soup in bread, but everything is possible). He slept well, but I got up throughout the night to make sure he was still breathing. He was fine the next day, and we’ve made appointments to have him re-tested.

We spent the weekend in New Jersey celebrating Jeff’s father’s 70th birthday, playing with the cousins and opening some early Christmas presents. The kids all get along so great; it’s so much fun. They had dance parties, played, chased each other. Here they are a (pajama) train:


Speaking of trains. Julian’s uncle had a nice steam train set that goes around the Christmas tree. Julian’s mind was literally blown. He navigated the train for a solid hour and a half without even looking up. I couldn’t even speak to him; he was in a zone. In a train zone. (We have to get one!)

Downstairs in the basement the kids learned new moves from Auntie Katherine (she’s a professional dancer, so she has alllllll the moves). So in his fourth year of life Julian finally added some new moves to his dance routine. Other than, you know, spinning in circles. But the thing that stood out the most to me was the fact that once you throw two or three other kids in the mix, my kids don’t seem so loud. Also, a carpeted basement room makes jumping and running not seem like such a big deal. My poor city kids! Or, I guess I should say: our poor neighbors!

Here is Arthur dancing with his Grammy:


Enough kids for a kids’ table!


And sorry, Arthur. It’s not that no one wanted to sit next to you at breakfast. It’s just that everyone wanted to sit next to Julian. Don’t worry, kid. Next year baby Henry will be part of the group, and you will no longer feel like the baby. Get ready, Henry!


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