Raphael met up with some tree branches on his sled this afternoon.

“It wasn’t quite as bad as Pride and Prejudice.”

Early this morning, Ambrose was up and ready for his soccer tournament. The mohawk is leftover from Halloween. He kept it to up his “fierce factor” on the field. I suppose it will come off before Mass in the morning.

3-year-old Daniel is flinging toys down the stairs again. We have been working on this.

“Danny, no throwing things down the stairs!” older brother Ambrose reminds him. “Papa says.”

“Papa’s not home,” the small one dares to answer.

“Yes, but Mama is. Mama is home. No throwing.”

Daniel considers this for just a moment. He holds a stuffed puppy in his hands and looks thoughtful.

And then he hurls the puppy down the stairs … full force.

When we parked at the ocean today, I stuffed a nearby backpack with some snacks, drinks, sunscreen, and changes of clothing for the smallest kids.

I was already going to be lugging my own bag plus doing some hand-holding on our short walk to the beach, so I thrust the backpack toward Ambrose.

“Here,” I told him, “You carry this please.”

“Uhhh … are you kidding me?”

Startled by his unwillingness, I thrust it yet again in his direction.

“I am not kidding. You carry this.”

He backed away from my hand. I looked at the backpack.

The hot pink Dora the Explorer backpack.

He was off the hook.

I call him that here because he would never let me get away with it in real life. See? Blogs are good for something, aren’t they?

My dirty sweaty baby boy Rafe:

This should be illegal.

Little boys wearing Osh Kosh alligator T-shirts … Seriously.

I am helpless here.