We remember when rock was young

Sorry for the hiatus. We've had to reinvent some routines at our new home, most of them involve music or water of some sort. Oscar is quite the guitar aficionado lately. He likes to play his Little Tykes guitar with an endless array of annoying music, walking around the house, saying "Rock star, I'm a rock star, I'm a rock star." Smash Mouth never enjoyed such a comeback as in this house. And, well, Annie sings instead of talks. But she's always been that way. Also, we've joined the YMCA (yes, you can do the hand motions, I'll wait...). Annie takes swim lessons twice a week and I no longer have any excuse not to work out. Free child care. State of the art equipment. Mirrors.

Also, we have a yard bigger than our house. Again. So the kids spend plenty of time out there what with global warming and all. Last week, we even had nice enough weather where they could play with the hose. It got out of hand, and naked, pretty quickly. But they have a blast and I have plenty of material to blackmail them with when they're teenagers. It's a win-win.

Luckily the Easter Bunny got our moving announcement and did a pretty good job hiding their Easter baskets, but eventually they found them, and we are still enjoying the fruits of their labor. Mostly, after they are asleep. That day, we took a hike on a private nature preserve in a different county and it feels nice to be so close to nature. Oscar was definitely in his element. 

This past month, we had our first two visitors to Roanoke, Jay's former fellowship cohort, Octavian and his partner Mark. Octavian is in the Navy, stationed in Virginia Beach, headed back to Afghanistan in a few months, so we were honored they made the five-hour drive to spend time with us. Annie even put on a show (I'll try to post the video soon) for them. Then, last week, our former neighbors, friends and landlords, the infamous Beverly and Al, or as the kids like to call them, "Betherly and Mr. Al" popped over in their plane from Louisville. The visit was all too short, but a big hit nonetheless. 

Also, since our move, Annie and Oscar enjoyed their first ice cream from the ice cream truck. Picture this: the van drives slowly past our house as Annie races out of the front door -- in a Cinderella costume, tiara and all, barefoot -- and chases the van down the block, about 100 feet, until he spies her highness in his rear mirror and bangs a U-turn. Victory is sweet. Rainbow Popsicle and chocolate eclair ice cream bar sweet.

And just to update you on the kiddos: 
When Oscar feels attacked, he'll bellow, "Don't be mean out me!"
Oscar is still obsessed with trash, and trash trucks, and trash cans... We had no idea the name Oscar would be so apt.
He's finally relented and is now eating peas. 
When I say goodnight to him, he thanks me for different foods I've given him, even water. I have no idea why.
Annie is reading so well now. No more spell-talking for us.
Annie and Oscar are now playing so well together (on the good days), I'm experiencing empty nest syndrome early.
Whenever Annie plays a grown-up in their games, she develops a speech impediment akin to Barbara Walters. Why not?

In fact, we're all settling in just fine. Looking forward to the summer and the kids being in camp (at the same time, halleluiah!). Here's to more roasted marshmallows in your near future. I know they will be in ours.