Our friend Donna spotted the dour little gent below in a book today & was reminded of Mr. Henry “I’ll just use my frown as a hat” Nack. I can see why!
Finn and I headed to Dr. S's office earlier this week for his 6-year old check-up, which is required for entry into 1st grade this fall. Although excited to avoid vaccinations (no more needed until he's 11!), he was not thrilled about sporting the "paper towel dress" required for the check-up. He kindly posed for a rather nervous shot in the gown before the doc came in to check him out. He also got to rock some awesome little headphones for his hearing test, which he passed with flying colors.
Current stats: 48 inches tall, 51 pounds. 85th percentile on height, 75th on weight, and right on track with his "big guy" teeth starting to come in. He's grown so much this year - both mentally and physically - it's kind of hard to believe. He's reading now, in both English and Spanish, even working out words he doesn't know! He's doing simple math, writing and illustrating his own stories, taking art lessons, and has many good buddies in class and at daycare. We love our blond 6 year-old to pieces.
The lads & I had a ball attending Father-Son Night at Finn's school. Just to send us over the moon, the whole thing was Lego-themed, featuring buckets of Legos to play with, a taco truck, and finally a screening of The Lego Movie complete with root beer floats. Man, I think I'm gonna have a conniption just thinking about it.
Anyway, here are our own "minifigs" hamming things up a bit beforehand:
We returned home yesterday tired, dirty, and happy from another great camping trip to nearby Mt. Madonna with the Pasitos preschool gang. I’m working to pull together some good photos, but in the meantime here are a couple of glimpses into the hike we did Saturday. Finn & Henry really enjoyed taking turns using the binoculars & chattering on the walkie talkies.
Visiting Google again on Sunday, Henry was appropriately perplexed & even a little horrified by the life-sized Justin Bieber cutout that mysteriously shares our office space. We all are, son—we all are. :-p
Four-year-old Finn spent easily six months obsessed with getting what's literally the world's most complex Lego Technic set—namely, a giant German military truck called the Unimog—and me being me, we got it for his fifth birthday (see gallery). Thus you can imagine our delight upon encountering a real live Unimog at Google this weekend. Behold its rusty majesty!
Capitalism is thriving at our house, with The Boat (Finn) and Green Car (Henry) running roughshod over their poor Cat (Dad-O) and Dog (Mom-O) parents. In fact, I think Finn remains undefeated thus far! Here are the little robber-barons in action last night:
...ideally wielding a baby sledgehammer in the rain amidst piles of broken wood & nails. (Not pictured: Learning to ride a skateboard near said piles. KOBI rides again!!)
(And yes, Mom, I was holding his hand the whole time, keeping him away from any actual danger. :-p)
The Germans have a treacherous racetrack they've dubbed "The Green Hell." I wouldn't go that far in describing last Saturday's festivities, but there were moments when, as somewhere between 12 & 15 4-to-6-year-olds simultaneously tried to asphyxiate me, I thought, "Wow, I wish I were wearing a GoPro so that other people can see what it looks like to die this way." Check me out (if you can even somehow see me) at the bottom of a tot-pile at our friends Jake & Shay's annual St. Paddy's party:
"Dad-O, I hope you make a lot of new friends at Google," Henry told me every day my first week. I shall try indeed, my son. Meanwhile, here's the little guy rocking the crazy propellerhead "Noogler" (as in, New Googler) beanie I was issued:
Bonus, via our neighbor Chris:
G-Man, as seen through Mom's-Eye View at Target this afternoon. (Amazingly he maintained his deep nap from car to cart.)
Is it still a conspiracy theory if you know they're out to get you?
The boys have started to delight in (hilariously loudly) whispering little plots to one another, generally having to do with some pending attack on Dad-O or gambit to score forbidden treats. Here, after they'd twisted my arm into buying them some Taco Bell schlock, I overheard Finn whispering, "Hey Henry, let's pour fiery sauce into Dad-O's brain to make him go bananas!" In a similar vein they've taken to attacking my "six" (aka butt—"six" being fighter pilot shorthand for one's six-o'clock position). Most amusingly, when I bust them (to their delight), they invariably claim, "Oh, we're just talking about gummi bears & tasty snacks." Snacks, my butt!
Early morning scene: Mom-O & her eyeliner getting Finn suited up for Crazy Mustache Day at school.
Hey, there's something to this temporary quasi-unemployment thing.
We had fun exploring the driftwood-laden New Brighton Beach (which we'd somehow missed all these years) with the boys' preschool buddy Clark & his dad Alex a couple of weeks back. Here you can get a glimpse of them constructing a "Beach ranger station" and burying their amigo.
Beach ranger station:
"Dad-O, I'm making Henry into a superhero," says Finn, attaching a garbage bag "cape" to his bro. "He's Trash Man!"