As has long been obvious, our dedication to this blog is no match for the demands of raising two children. So if you're unhappy about the infrequent updates, take it up with Ezra and Oliver. Since you seem to think they're so damn great.I kid, of course. Mostly. The reason for today's rebirth of BlastOliver is the occasion of my (Gabe's) mother turning ... uh ... well ... having a birthday. Hooray! Happy birthday, Grandma! (I should mention that this thoughtful gesture was Ashley's idea).
As long as we're here, we might as well offer an update. Life is as frenetic as ever -- possibly more so, as Ash and I both have had especially demanding work schedules since late summer. The boys are doing great -- both healthy and often happy. Ezra still swings between being barely manageable and inducing aneurysms. But all along he is, of course, amazing. He still requires us to tell stories and role-play much of the day, but the subject matter has gotten a bit more sophisticated.
He's into Star Wars at the moment (he's never seen the movies, but has picked up the plot through books and bedtime stories. Yes, we tell Star Wars bedtime stories). The interactions often focus on trying to convince Darth Vader and the Emperor that they should just be nice. I am heartened that, so far, this is generally his strategy with villains.Oliver is positively blossoming right now. He's running around and has a couple dozen words. When I come home he tears across the apartment yelling "Hi Da Da! Hi Da! Hi Da!" It is the best homecoming I could imagine. He's also just started putting words together: principally, garbage truck. "Gaba ... cuck." He enjoys imitating our various guttural noises, and has begun to give kisses.
He loves to climb stuff and is alarmingly brave. Ezra was rambunctious at this age already, too, but unlike Ezra, Oliver will brazenly walk straight off a ledge without even looking down. We just removed our extra crib from the kids' rooms because Oliver was clearly using it to practice launching himself out. His sleep is still not perfect, but blessedly he is a great eater. That is a huge relief, and gives us hope that meals won't always be as stressful with Ollie as they were with his bro. He's also adopted a lovie -- a baby blanket, just like his old man. Of course he's cranky at times and is really starting to get into stuff, but mostly he's just brimming with exuberance and sweetness.
We managed to take a trip in September to California, seeing friends and attending the wedding of my old friend John (Ezra's godfather) and his vivacious bride, Angela. It was a whirlwind -- I think we stayed in five different places in just over a week. We were a fun-loving hobo family. This did allow us to, somehow, see most of the people we wanted to see, including friends from many different phases of our lives (Gabe's high school, Gabe's college, Ash's college, Ash's relatives, Ash's old work chums, etc.).
A huge highlight for me was reuniting with four of my college roomates and their spouses, and meeting three of their offspring for the first time. We saw redwood trees (the boys swooned), rode cable cars (more swooning), ate really good Indian and Italian food, climbed hills, took in mountain vistas and generally made ourselves sick with nostalgia for the Bay Area.Halloween was a success, though it was touch and go. Ash is ambitious in many of her endeavors, but it reaches epic proportions when it comes to homemade Halloween costumes (see last year's post re: construction crane). She is the Thomas Pynchon, the Christo, the Axl Rose of costumery. [Ed. (Ash): I have to interject here and say that nothing I've done comes close to the labor and creativity my mom put into our Halloween costumes, the best of which, I think, was a Miss Piggy head made out of papier mache, complete with fake eyelashes and blond wig.]
Anyway, we had big plans to build a robot costume for Ezra out of boxes, silver paint, dryer vent tubing and lots of buttons, dials and switches. We created a masterpiece, which Ezra was thrilled about until he put it on. We had engineered it with little thought given to comfort or ease of movement, and he immediately demanded it be removed. Crestfallen, we borrowed a store-bought dinosaur costume. On the evening of trick-or-treat, we desperately wanted him to wear it just long enough for a picture.
He refused. So we did what any good parent would: we told him he could not have any candy unless he put it on. This proved effective. Then as soon as we showed him a picture of himself wearing the robot on our camera, he insisted on wearing it the rest of the night. He's still living off his candy haul.Oliver was cute enough to pucker your heart in his borrowed, store-bought giraffe costume ... which leads me to question the energy expended on the robot project, rewarding though it was. We ate all of Ollie's candy within a day or so. Cut us some slack. He's one.
Anyway, way too much to report here, of course, but we are chugging along. We are trying to keep control of this insane family machine we are driving, and reminding ourselves to feel joy and wonder along the way.
Here's to one more big happy birthday to Grandma from the Spitzer-Grosses -- we love you, Ma!As ever,
Gabe, Ash, Ez and Ollie
