state of the larson boys

Adam is crawling. Yesterday when we were at the park be took off into the dirt/wood chips and left little tracks as he shuffled along on all fours.  He, like most babies of eight months, puts everything in his mouth and he doesn't discriminate between crackers and rocks, cereal and wood chips.  Every now and then he'll luck out and find something delicious on the ground (the black licorice he's gnawing on now, for example),

and I think that's what motivates him to keep sampling whatever he happens to come upon. 

Taylor and Noah have worked out most of the bugs in their relationship without Jack and with the pecking order established, they have become pleasant and entertaining in the morning hours while Jack is away.  This is what they are up to right now:

(notice the handcuff with one side attached to Taylor's wrist and the other around the neck of his chipmunk).  I hear lots of funny things as they are playing.  I can't do them justice in writing, because you have to hear the inflections, the dynamics, the relationship itself.  A better writer could capture these things, but I doubt any reader (besides my mom, maybe?) would really feel as I feel when I listen to them.



And speaking of those good feelings, yesterday as I picked up Jack from school a few kids called out "bye, Jack!" and he enthusiastically called "Bye!" back.  He was grinning with a sparkle in his eye and told me about Joshua and Mia and Alexis, and the things they'd done and the silly things that one boy said, and what they played at recess.  I was driving along and had just a wave of gratitude and inevitable maternal pride.  He's doing great.  He's thriving.  Kevin and I will be volunteering in his class in the next few weeks and I can't wait to see how he is. He made this in class yesterday, and although I still need to ask him about it, I thought it was really funny:

that's me, in the middle, cooking dinner. =)

And then there's this little ray of sunshine:

who just woke up and entered my day.  He can be rather abrasive at times, but deep down he's a real softy who just needs some extra love in the mornings...and the afternoons...and most evenings.  He's actually really good and easy most of the time, but he does have an attitude and he's most stubborn about footwear. He hates his sandals and wants to wear his sunday shoes always.  But he could sit for hours and read books with me, and he loves to see what I'm cooking, and he has such a cute way of talking ("dat[pause]made[pause]me[pause]happy[pause]mom!" after going down the slide.)  oh so cute.  He gets under my skin and I can't help but adore him.

May you have a good weekend and may BYU beat Utah on Saturday.