bubbles.

P is just now old enough to care anything about bubbles. He completely understands the bubble-blowing process: 1) Pour the bubble solution into the pan, 2) Dip the wand, 3) Wave the wand to make lots of bubbles.


But he adds another step: 4) Drink the bubbles.


He looks perplexed. I guess the bubbles didn't taste that great.


Or, maybe they did.


He is at the "busy" stage of toddlerhood. He never slows down. Even in his sleep. He tosses and turns the entire night, and we usually find him lying in the opposite direction in his crib the next morning, with his blanket and George on the floor. He's a restless little man.

This chair was not unlike every other chair that P encounters these days. He climbs in, stands up, turns around, sits down, climbs out, then does it all again.


"P, what are you playing with over there in the grass? Show mommy what you found!"


"Just mushrooms, mom. Don't worry." We quickly washed his hands. Twice.

He actually sat down a few times for me to snap these few pictures. (But it didn't last long. He ran up and down the length of the rock stairs at least a hundred times, squealing the entire time.)




He sure keeps us on our toes. You would think I'd be as skinny as a rail with the way he keeps me running. Fifteen months is a great age.

Disclaimer: No bubbles were actually consumed by the subject in these photographs, although I am quite certain he would have enjoyed a taste. The bottle was empty.