The snow has melted today even further than in this photograph. The January thaw has been unusually long, it seems, and we're expecting one or two more warm days before it's done. The kids don't mind. It means they can play on their bicycles and cars outside. Tuesday, we drove into the city and visited my school, they got to see my office and classrooms and walk around downtown Boston a little bit. Noah's favorite part was the Red Line subway, or, as he called it, the "red train."
He was great. He walked up and down stairs and escalators and sidewalks and elevators, never once asking to be picked up. Maxim also absorbed the city with excitement. And paid attention to everything that was going on around her. That night we finished taking down the Christmas tree, packing everything into boxes for next year. Yesterday Maxim and Noah both did a half day of school, grudgingly, and then came home and napped with me. They napped, I worked. Before her nap, Maxim found a cut-out puzzle in one of the magazines she got from school. Without asking for help, she figured out how to cut out the pieces and then assemble it into the final product - a picture of a girl that, when held up to a light, showed her bones and internal organs. "Daddy, can I have some glue," she asked me after everything was cut out. "For what?"
I thought she was making Valentines cards. "To make the girl. I need to glue it to a paper." I gave her tape. She assembled it. The kids have also gotten an early start on camping season. They drape blankets across their camping mats and crawl into their sleeping bags. If they leave the tent assembled, Bones will always crawl in for a nap. Today they moved the tents upsatirs to their bedroom. "Daddy, tonight I want to sleep in my tent. In my sleeping bag." I look at her without response. "Can I?" "Sure." "I wanna, I wanna, I wanna sleep in my tent too," Noah stutters. He likes to be like Maxim. "Can I, Daddy? Please can I?" "Sure." These kinds of questions and ideas and questions run along all morning long. We walk to the Post Office, the dialogue continues. Coralie and Nico visited us for a few hours this afternoon, but by 3:15, everyone was in bed, in their tents... I could use a tent myself today. But this quiet time is too tempting to sleep through, so I'll keep building a syllabus, listening to the afternoon traffic slowly pick up, and watching the bright yellow sun warm the winter landscape like a Durham winter.
The snow has melted today even further than in this photograph. The January thaw has been unusually long, it seems, and we're expecting one or two more warm days before it's done. The kids don't mind. It means they can play on their bicycles and cars outside. Tuesday, we drove into the city and visited my school, they got to see my office and classrooms and walk around downtown Boston a little bit. Noah's favorite part was the Red Line subway, or, as he called it, the "red train." 
He was great. He walked up and down stairs and escalators and sidewalks and elevators, never once asking to be picked up. Maxim also absorbed the city with excitement. And paid attention to everything that was going on around her. That night we finished taking down the Christmas tree, packing everything into boxes for next year. Yesterday Maxim and Noah both did a half day of school, grudgingly, and then came home and napped with me. They napped, I worked. Before her nap, Maxim found a cut-out puzzle in one of the magazines she got from school. Without asking for help, she figured out how to cut out the pieces and then assemble it into the final product - a picture of a girl that, when held up to a light, showed her bones and internal organs. "Daddy, can I have some glue," she asked me after everything was cut out. "For what?" 
I thought she was making Valentines cards. "To make the girl. I need to glue it to a paper." I gave her tape. She assembled it. The kids have also gotten an early start on camping season. They drape blankets across their camping mats and crawl into their sleeping bags. If they leave the tent assembled, Bones will always crawl in for a nap. Today they moved the tents upsatirs to their bedroom. "Daddy, tonight I want to sleep in my tent. In my sleeping bag." I look at her without response. "Can I?" "Sure." "I wanna, I wanna, I wanna sleep in my tent too," Noah stutters. He likes to be like Maxim. "Can I, Daddy? Please can I?" "Sure." These kinds of questions and ideas and questions run along all morning long. We walk to the Post Office, the dialogue continues. Coralie and Nico visited us for a few hours this afternoon, but by 3:15, everyone was in bed, in their tents... I could use a tent myself today. But this quiet time is too tempting to sleep through, so I'll keep building a syllabus, listening to the afternoon traffic slowly pick up, and watching the bright yellow sun warm the winter landscape like a Durham winter.
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