Because Fourteen Month Olds Need Shoes Too and Early Risings=Even More Olympics

Hello? Anyone there?

Oh, the days dawn early around here lately. It seems as though 5 a.m. is the new wake-up time for at least one baby and sometimes two. By 6 a.m. at least one big kid is up. Sometimes two. Which leads me to my question, which I think top scientists should be studying:

Why is it that children (babies are excluded from this) rise a good one to two hours earlier on weekends? Ellie moans and groans through her Monday through Friday mornings but come Saturday she is up with (often before!) the sun and the chickens and she is positively peppy. I mean, I know why she's so exuberant, she doesn't have to go to school or camp! But it's the early hour that I wonder about.

You think it's a cup. Harry knows better. In Harry's world, anything can be a phone!

Friday afternoon I got off work a little early and figured I would take advantage of the fact that with Leo and Ellie at camp, I wouldn't have to drag all nineteen children to the mall (Striderite=Proper measurement=Lots of wide shoes=Harry appears to be following in Barney Rubble aka Leo's feet) to buy Harry's First Shoes (sniff!).

Boy shoes usually don't excite me but I did a bit of poking around online and found these and well, how can you go wrong with the name?

Normally, I do what I can to avoid loading and unloading the babies and the Giant Ridiculous Stroller 2.0 in and out of the car, particularly on a 95-degree, humid, August day, but now that I'm back at work (again, sniff), errands with the babies are more novel than drudgery. So I thought this little after-work/pre-Big Kid camp pick-up would be a fun little treat for all of us. So I circled the parking lot amidst Harry's late afternoon meltdown and sweated my way through the folding and the unfolding of the stroller and the unbuckling and the buckling of two sweaty, semi-compliant individuals. You can imagine my surprise when I rounded the corner where the Stride Rite store was in our local mall, only to find the windows darkened.

The store had been closed for two months, the kindly Mrs. Fields manager informed me. Gah. That's what you get for doing all of your shoe shopping online, I suppose.

Still content to be barefoot at all times, Lucy cruises around on whatever object or human (or dog) she comes across. Ellie, an ottoman or an empty Zappos box all serve as perfectly suitable push toys. She does the stand and squeel, where she looks like she's about to take a step. But no. Meanwhile, her language is exploding. When you enter a room she says "Hi! Hi! Hi!" until you greet her back. She's been calling Erin "Mama" for weeks. The other day I was holding her while making Leo's scrambled eggs and I swear she pointed at the pan and said "hot," clear as a bell. Speaking of pointing, it's her favorite thing. She points all the time. Such a rude little thing, right? She's also finally picking up sign language. When I asked her if she wanted to "eat" this morning, she signed "more."

Both babies wave "Hi" and "Bye" like professional Hi and Bye Wavers. Sometimes it's two minutes after we've arrived or left, but hey, we'll work out the details eventually.

Lastly, and unrelated to anything I've just said (5 a.m. wake-ups, people. 5 a.m.) I just have to say again, how much I'm enjoying watching the Olympics with the kids. One plus side to waking at 5 a.m. on the weekends: Plenty of Olympic viewing opportunities, and hey, they're even live! Ellie and I watched some of the marathon, bright and early on Sunday (Harry and Lucy appeared disinterested and sloth-like Leo slept until an unheard of 6:45 a.m.). The night before, we watched another one of my favorite events (after gymnastics): synchronized diving. Ellie asked me what it was and I explained it was when "two girls jumped into the pool at the same time."

"Do they hold hands?" Ellie asked.

Man, do I love her.