Storytime before nap today included a couple of Adelaide's latest favorites ...

On our left is a copy of a delightful Charlie and Lola book by Lauren Child. For those of you who are familiar with this Brit-Kid-Lit duo, you'll smile to hear that Charlie and Lola is Adelaide's favorite and her best. The C&L series of books and cartoons based on the books center around the day-to-day happenings in the petite lives of Charlie and his little sister Lola. Every story and episode begins with Charlie saying, "I have this little sister Lola. She is small and very funny," but when you ask Adelaide how the stories begin she'll say, "I have this little sister Lola. She is smooth and very funny." Those Londonish accents from the T.V. show are sometimes tricky.

On our right is a macabre non-fiction history book entitled Written in Bone: Buried Lives of Jamestown and Colonial Maryland by Sally M. Walker. The book chronicles the work of a group of forensic historians and archaeologists, unearthing the bones of early American settlers from Seventeenth Century. The book is full of glossy, full-color photos of digs. The photos include graphic images of skeletons half-peeking out of their graves as archaeologists carefully brush the dust from their noses and survey sites in pith helmets and khahis. Adelaide clutches this book close to her chest and says, "I'm going to be an Ark-Le-Ologist."

Pause.

"After I'm a mom, and a dentist, and a doctor."

While Adelaide and I discuss the finer points of ArkLeOlogy, Henry is happiest left to his own devices in Adelaide's room. There are no silly baby toys here!

I crawled into bed and slept peacefully until about 5 a.m., when seemingly simultaneously, Ophelia started yowlping downstairs and Adelaide started yowlping from across the hall. Joel and I sprang from our slumber to tend to the beasts: Ophelia spotted a raccoon in the backyard; Adelaide wet the bed.

When all was right with the world again (after about 30 minutes work), it was basically time to get up and make coffee anyway ... Later in the morning, Adelaide complained of a little bit of a sore throat and had the sneezies, and asked if she could stay home from school. I compromised: Adelaide would go to school in the morning, but then I'd pick her up before lunch. We'd lunch at home, nap, and then go to the library! What a fun idea, especially the nap!

Can you guess that my perfect plans quickly went awry?

Well, we all had a good lunch, anyway. I'd snuggled a scratchy-voiced Adelaide and a go-with-the-flow Hal into bed, and thought "I'll just do up the lunch dishes and then snuggle up myself!" All of a sudden the quiet of the house was broken by a shrieking, screaming banshee-like wail.

Adelaide.

I ran upstairs to find Adelaide in her bed, rubbing her eyes.

"What happened?"

"Nine-sniff-sniff-scratched-sniff-my-eye-snrumph-I-I-I-wahhhh-was-sleeping-and-sniff-slrumph-she-scratched-ME!!"

I scooped Adelaide up and took her into the bathroom for a closer look. Adelaide's left cheek had angry, red, puffy scratch marks, and her left eye had some broken blood vessels. Adelaide assured me that she could see, but I decided that we'd better go to the doctor anyway. No naps today! I woke Hal and in no time everybody was secured into the van and off we went.

I juggled our two temperamental kids at the doctor's office with the help of various nurses, residents, and receptionists ... It takes a village, doesn't it? After some looking and restraining (yuck) and flashlights and flourescent dye and black lights, we determined that Adelaide's vision was unaffected and that her eye was a-okay.

We met Papa - our Blood Bank Hero - for a cookie after our trials, and we're on our way back home at 4:00. "Missed nap," I thought as I drove home. When we got home and we're parked in the garage, I looked to the backseat and saw that both kids were blissfully snoring away.

Joel: And see, every continent has its own animals.

Adelaide: Different animals for different countries.

Joel: Right, kangaroos grew up in Australia, lions grew up in Africa, bears grew up in America-

Adelaide: They grew up there?

Joel: Well, yeah. Australia was just right for kangaroos, so kangaroos grew up there.

Adelaide: And God made them there.

Joel: Oh. Uh, well, a lot of people argue about whether-

Adelaide: And I don't like lions because they can bite you.

Joel: Whew.

Snow Cave

Snow Sled

We had what I fervently hope is our last snowstorm last night. Given that, and a surprisingly good night of sleep, Adelaide and I felt ambitious enough to pull of the child's winter trifecta. The snow cave is my pride and joy. All winter long I've been piling the driveway snow into a towering hump in the front yard. It's core has become ice, and I was able to hollow out a space large enough for Adelaide to turn around in. "I'm like a bear in a cave with dolls!" she exclaimed, jamming her Cinderella doll into a gap in the wall.

Adelaide continues to look charming with her umbrella and other pink accoutrements.

Henry's got a cheeky new grin (since yesterday) that he's having fun showing off.

(Joel is coping with his fourth Surg Path rotation and I am coping with a case of walking pneumonia. Ophelia continues to teethe on our basement sofa. Nine seems happier now that her litter box is upstairs.)

Good times.

It just wouldn't be Valentine's Day without sugar cookies and sprinkles, would it? This weekend, Marmee, D, and Erin made the trip down to Iowa City to help us bake a big batch.

The cookies were a hit with everyone, even Ophelia, who snagged a substantial helping when no one was looking. Yum!

In addition to cookie-baking, we celebrated Valentine's Day this year with Henry's baptism. Joel, Adelaide and I look on while Erin - Henry's godmother - positions Henry over the baptismal font to receive Pastor Jan's blessing. With us in spirit, but not in body, is Josh Miron, Henry's godfather. In the background are a collection of Schularicks, friends of our family, who had their new little daughter baptized, too. After the ritual dip, both families celebrated together at the church with lots of coffee, decadent cake, and plenty of chat.

We're freezing a piece of the pink champagne buttercream cake for you, Josh!

In addition to playing with the toilet water, Henry's new talents also include sneaking upstairs to play in Adelaide's bedroom all by himself.

It's been a busy weekend around here ... I worked the weekend, caring for four new people and their moms; Joel was on-call for Surg Path and grossed in two Whipples; Adelaide tackled a nasty snappy cough and fever; Ophelia did not make any new friends with our retiree neighbors with her excellent alert barking; Nine - in cahoots with our retiree neighbors - logged her 768th complaint about Ophelia; and Henry found untapped sources of entertainment in the bathroom.

So, I finally learned to embroider ... or, I ought to say, I am finally learning how to embroider.

My little sis picked up the hobby from a chum and embroidered a cool set of dish towels for my parents' kitchen. "Wow!" I said to myself, "those towels look super cool! I wish I could do that!"

As it turns out, I didn't say it to myself. I said it out loud.

So, now I am embroidering.

I am especially proud of my little french knots.

(Thanks to Sublime Stitching the rad patterns.)

After donning our leotard, tights, and slippers, there was but a brief moment of hesitancy ...

followed by complete, whirling-dervish joy.

A moment not to forget: During the class's spinning, leaping and cavorting, the instructor's iPod seemed to accidently skip from Tchaikovsky to Beyonce, blasting her pop hit Single Ladies. Adelaide is familiar with this family favorite from our favorite episode of Glee, and breaking from the dancing, ran screaming over to me, "WE KNOW THIS ONE!"

Earlier this week, Adelaide decided that she'd like to try sitting in the adult chairs at suppertime and graciously offered Henry a chance to sit in her beloved high chair. Henry loves his newfound seat, and fusses now if we put him back in the old green baby high chair. He seems to enjoy his dinnertime proximity to us, our fancy-looking food, and all of our other mealtime trappings. He screamed and bellowed during last night's meal because Adelaide had a spoon and he didn't have a cool utensil of his own. That problem was easily remedied, but sibling rivalry may be just beginning. Funny, Adelaide doesn't seem to feel competitive with Henry at this point. But at every possible turn she is very mothery, offering him tips on the best way to get what he wants and scolding him here and there for minor foibles and faux pas.

She's been dosed, and has received some probiotic treatment to reestablish her normal flora. She's still extremely sad, but we'll give it a few days.

We are just over a week into our newly-found role as dog parents and things are going okay.

We don't have too much to complain about ...

Ophelia has destroyed just a handful of our belongings (especially jingly baby toys, which look all too like her own stash of doggie toys). She's a puppy, and she chews. And so, our house has never been more picked up, even Adelaide's getting in on the tidying!

As Joel mentioned, Ophelia comes from a long line of protectors and guardians, especially at night. After the sun goes down, Ophelia takes a short power nap and then is up from about 9 p.m. to 1 a.m. guarding her flock. Guarding includes lots of alert barking and posturing (if she's outside). I've learned to sleep through her loud barks, but she sometimes keeps Joel awake, so he's hoping that she grow out of the barking.

I think that she knows that we're her people now, and that has possibly led to a strange new turn-of-events.

Since last night, Ophelia is sad.

She wags her tail, but keeps her head low and down. She doesn't bark with the same vigor that she did earlier this week. She doesn't smile. She seems tired on her walks, including the one that we took in City Park this morning.

Why?

We have a couple of theories ...

A) Maybe she's realizing that she's here to stay. Maybe she misses her friends at the shelter? Is that anthropomorphizing things too much?

B) Joel took her for a mile-and-a-half run yesterday and while she jogged along, she was exhausted and pooped out when they came home after 20 minutes. Other than that workout, she's been getting at least two daily walks. Maybe she's not conditioned ...

C) At the recommendation of the people at the shelter, we've been feeding Ophelia easily digestible dog food because of her recent g.i. upset. Still, she's been certainly getting bits of fluff and plastic with all of the toys and shoes she's devoured. And yesterday, we gave her a rawhide chew to encourage her teething. Maybe she's sick again ...

Whether the realization, the activity, or the food, I'm a little worried.

Adelaide says, "In Cinderella, when Lucifer opens his mouth really wide, you can see his uvula."

January's frosty windchills bring Henry's ninth month birthday!

Our little Hal Pal is the proud owner of two tiny bottom teeth, a late gift from Jolly Ol' St. Nicholas on the Third Day of Christmas ... Thank goodness, because I don't know what we would have done with three French Hens!

He's using those new chompers on lots of new foods, of course. But, Henry's love of carrots, squash, and sweet potatoes is still obviously apparent in his skin's orange tint.

He's also sharing his thoughts and ideas with us with quite a bit of baby babble. Perhaps to compete with his sister's interruptions and rambling tales of her day, he has taken to emitting a loud, high-pitched shriek whenever he feels that his voice isn't being heard. Just last night, though, he crawled to me saying, "Mammamamamamamaaa." Sweet.

He's working on pulling himself to stand alot, and has successfully mastered climbing two stairs (after two steps I think he looks down and gets a little nervous about being up so high). And he still doesn't really like to crawl on the tile, and consistently does a sort of push-up move with only his hands and feet touching the floor when he gets stuck in the bathroom or in the kitchen.

He's still our best sleeper, sleeping for about twelve hours at nighttime!