St. Patrick's Day

Looks like the Leprechauns were back again this year.

 Eggs, hot chocolate, our annual box of Lucky charms...

 Then we went for a walk.

 Did a little creek walkin'.

Flew a kite,

Climbed some trees. (Can you find Isabella?) You know, your traditional St. Patty's Day festivities.
That evening we had Irish Stew and soda bread for dinner and Shamrock shakes for dessert.

Noodles and Noodles of Fun

First Matthew discovered how fun unsweetened cocoa could be, and then he came across some lasagna noodles...

Which was fine by me, because they'd been in my cupboard for years, and well, if you're not going to cook them, you might as well play with them, I say.

Besides, he's part Italian and I'm sure all part-Italian babies play with lasagna noodles.

He got his sister involved and that's when the lasagna noodle party started.

See the dagger-like point on that noodle? What mother would let her 16 month old...
(Don't worry, the dangerous noodle was immediately confiscated.)

P.S. As it turns out, Matthew Baby likes to get into just about everything. (Those would be baby wipes.) Luckily I found him before he emptied the whole pouch.

La Familia

Some major catch up is called for here. Waaaay back in February we had a lovely little reunion with family from LaLaland, at my parents' house. Isabella already smitten with her cousin Jack quickly became smitten with Jack's stepdad, Buddy. After a delicious brunch, we took a nice stroll into town.

Of course, Isabella assumed leadership in all things, especially the walk. We had to stop at designated "sights", which she determined, on the fly. It went something like this: "Come on guys, this is the first sight" she declared, as she walked us to the creek flowing under the lumber mill. Other sights included a climbing wall, a wooded pathway, and climbing trees at the Depot.

 Luckily, we like her, and don't mind being bossed around. Sometimes.

At the Depot, Dad was convinced that Matthew said his first word, which was "Papa".  Matthew didn't really seem to agree with Papa's interpretation, when questioned.

 Cousins.

So, my job for the family reunion was to make a cake to celebrate the upcoming arrival of Christa and Buddy's baby. I thought a white cake would be lovely. Maybe some baby-shower-appropriate colored frosting. I envisioned some gold glitter on top, to add a little class. THIS is what I had in mind:

This was the reality:

A lopsided, wedge wood blue confection with edible gold glitter stars strewn all over it. Mark said it reminded him of Pearl Harbor (you'll have to ask Mark about that).

The cake reminded me of my Grandma Accampo's china collection. Thankfully, it tasted delicious.

After dinner reading with Papa in his room.

This handsome kid is absolutely amazing with his cousins. I'm so, so impressed!

Funny Valentine

My funny Valentine...

Sweet, comic valentine,

You make me smile with my heart.

 Your looks are laughable, unphotographable,

 

Yet you're my favorite work of art.

Don't change a hair for me, 

Not if you care for me,

Stay little, valentine stay.

Each day is Valentine's Day.

Saturday

 Give Isabella a ball of twine on a Saturday morning and she is entertained for hours.

The morning is capped off with a snack a top the Climber with Daddy. Nothing like a Saturday.

January Happiness

 I found some pictures taken in January that I forgot to post. Isabella attended her first convention: The Great Train Expo. She was in heaven.

 This was our favorite model. A drive in movie that was actually playing a movie.

After perusing the various models, she dedicated most of her time to running around the giant train tables following the trains to see where they would go, which meant she ran around in circles for more than an hour. She had quite the following, or so she thought.

We managed to get her outside, where she played in a train-themed bouncy house and took a little train ride around the building. All in all, it was a lovely day at Point Richmond. In other news...

 

Happiness is also eating lunch with your friend on a boulder on a warm winter day in January. 

My Dad, The Engineer, Part 1

My Dad, the Engineer, circa 1972.

My Dad is an engineer, which means that as a kid, whenever I would go to him with even the simplest of questions, I usually got encyclopedic material in return. This made for a lot of eye rolling on my part, particularly in my teenage years. In my early 20's, however, as I was living away from home for the first time, my whole notion of my Dad changed--with a single phone call home. The story (slightly embellished) goes something like this:

I was attempting to cook something and discovered that the eggs I needed to use in my recipe had expired the day before. Worried that I might die from salmonella or botulism or some other horrid food borne illness, I decided to call home to ask my mom her advice as to whether or not I should use said eggs. Dad answered the call.  

"Is mom home?"

"She's out shopping. Can I help you with something?" he asks.

Now, this is a dangerous situation and I can sense it. It's just a question about an egg. Do I risk the chance of getting a lecture over something so simple? On the other hand...Dad doesn't cook a lot. What could be the harm? I proceed cautiously and explain the situation. Eggs. Expired yesterday. Will they kill me? Yes or No.

There is a pause on the other end of the line. And then a question. 

"Do you know how bridges are built?" he asks. 

(Insert major eye roll here.) Bridges? Really Dad? It's just a question about an egg...

"No Dad. Tell me how bridges are made." I concede. 

What followed, however, was such a simple and appropriate answer (and lesson in civil engineering) that it occurred to me, in my twentieth-something year, that my Dad was pretty much a genius.

He explained to me that civil engineers build in a safety factor when designing bridges. A sign posted next to a bridge announcing that it can support 1 ton of weight, for example, is actually built to hold more like a ton and a 1/2 of weight. And so it was (most likely)** with the expiration date stamped on my carton of eggs. It (most likely) included a safety factor and therefore was (more than likely) safe to use.

**Disclaimer: Although my Dad's egg/bridge analogy was merely a hypothesis, and was never scientifically proven--and still isn't to this day-- I totally bought it.

I had a whole new level of appreciation for my Dad after that phone call, for not only did I not die of food poisoning, I also gained a lot more confidence traveling over bridges, and for life in general. So, thanks, Dad, for being the nerd that is you. I love you.