Sunscreen season

Okay, folks, I clearly need some help with sunscreens on Sidamo's beautiful skin. Because of a seriously pervasive family history of melanoma, I'm a little obsessed with sun protection. And yes, I get that Sidamo won't be affected by my cursed genes—lucky devil. Still, sun protection is important for precious little people of all shades, so we slather it on him on just about all of Colorado's 300 days of sunshine.

What complicates this is the fact that I'm also a little obsessed with natural health, and if you've been following the sunscreen controversy, you know that there are all kinds of health concerns associated with chemical sunscreens. That leaves us using physical blocks that use zinc oxide, and that means white paste that doesn't rub in.

Not a huge deal when your skin is pasty white to begin with (see: me, Greg, Nora), but when your skin is a beautiful, chocolatey brown like this little man's, the result is a little less flattering.

So what do you advise? If you or your littles have non-albino skin, what's your sunscreen policy? How do you balance the need for sun protection with the need to not look like you're bathing in cold cream?

Tell us or we crush your head.

Nora's first shiner

And from here on out, the helmet does not come off.

View of the backyard

Now tell me this doesn't look like paradise.

Memories of warmer times

(Like 3 days ago.)

Things I'm ready to pack away

• Gloves
• Hats
• Winter coats
• Snow shovels
• Cold medicine

It's May 11. I don't think I'm asking too much.

Overheard

Sidamo, from the commode:

"A-B-C-D-E-F-poop!-H-I-J-K-L-M-N-O-poop!"

 

Things we say too much

Once again, the kids are happily pointing out, through their normal dialogue, the phrases we use too much. Darnit, for instance.*

Nora has gotten to that very fun stage where she journals out loud every night before she falls asleep. It's like this verbal outpouring of everything important that has happened to her that day, and more often than not, it includes phrases I didn't realize had (and I wish I hadn't) used. Things like "Never ever do that!" repeated over and over for about 15 minutes. Not sure what I was talking about, but clearly it made an impression.

Sidamo will pick up on phrases and use them completely out of context, like last night when we heard him calling Nora a "multiple times." As in, "Nora, you multiple times, put that back!" That traces back to about an hour earlier when Greg lamented having to ask Sidamo "multiple times" to start getting ready for bed. It seems 4-year-olds can turn just about any exchange into an opportunity for name-calling. And it won't be long, I'm sure, until we hear Nora chanting "multiple times!" from her crib. Multiple times.


*I think you'll all agree I deserve some kudos for at least keeping my curses PG-rated. I seem to remember Sidamo using some less kid-friendly phrases when he was Nora's age, so at least I'm learning restraint. Parenting is all about progress, right?

Nora's first joke

"Moon, moon, go away. Come again another day. Hahahaha! Joking!"

Rain, rain, gone away

Last week we had several days of rain in a row—very unusual, and it left quite an impression on the little lady. We were driving over to Grandma's one morning, and I heard her singing "Rain, rain, go away, come again another day," all by herself with no prompting from me (though she has certainly heard the song many times before). I love this age, when the words start coming and you find out that they've been listening all along.

The rain is long gone, but she's still singing. Today while she was singing I decided to try to capture it on the computer. At first she seems to have a little stage fright, but by the end she's practically making out with herself.


God, I love this girl.

3rd Referraversary

We saw our little man's face for the first time three years ago last week, and our understanding of joy was immediately altered. It has expanded every day since.

Oh man, I remember those thighs. What a little chubster he was. Now he's the tall, slender, mature, preschooler you see below.

Every year I make him talk to the baby version of himself for the viewing public, and every year he offers some interesting commentary on his lack of hair. This year is no exception.

We still wonder what we did to deserve the pleasure of raising this hilarious, feisty, loving, ridiculously handsome boy who knows it all, but we sure are grateful he's ours.