Muscle beach

On Monday, Ryan discovered his toes. He grabs them at every opportunity, including when his father carries him down the stairs in the morning. Hunter usually is dressed for work, so to avoid having his work clothes hit with spit-up first thing in the morning, he carries Ryan facing out. For the past few days, Ryan has held onto his foot during this time like he's afraid he might forget it.

(If you're wondering why I have no photo of this, it's because it happens about 15 minutes after I get up and I've had no coffee so I can't operate the camera.)


This week also was noteworthy for the mind-boggling heat we had for three days. It hit 90, which I know isn't worth complaining about in the desert and the South where much of our family lives, but remember: We don't have central air conditioning. So 90 degrees turns our home into a sauna.

The heat killed Ryan's appetite, but not his desire to work out.




He spent three days hanging out in only a diaper, including one afternoon when my friend Kelly and her son, Brennan, came to the house to hang out with Ryan while I kept an appointment. This was the scene upon my return:


That was a workout for Kelly, for sure. I think she had just caught these two getting ready to pull down the bookcase while eating the Wii remotes and wrapping computer cords around their necks. If I had been a moment or two later, I feel certain I would have found the boys duct taped to the floor.