And, when I tried to snuggle him on the couch this morning, he said:

"Mama, keep your hands to yourself."

XWRK: "Should we make a princess?"

Mama: "What's a princess like?"

XWRK: "Big and round like a circle."

While walking past our friend Aline - who was wearing a skirt, tights and knee high boots -

XWRK: "Oh I looove your brown legs."

At dinner -

XWRK: "Can I have some beer?"

Mama: "No."

XWRK: "Can I have some wine?"

Also at dinner -

Mommy: "What are the pink birds called?"

XWRK: "Pig birds"

Mommy: "No PINK birds. They are the color pink."

XWRK: "The pig - the pig has friends."

Mommy: "Xavi are you in your own special world right now?"

XWRK: "Should we do laundry?"

On his way up to bed -

XWRK: "Mommy I have one can and one jar."

Mommy: "Oh. really?"

XWRK: "Yes. One can and one jar. It feels good to have them."

editor's note: He has neither can nor jar.

Also on his way up to bed -

XWRK: "This is my home, where I play, on Jefferson Street, in Seattle."

Also on his way up to bed -

XWRK: "NO!"

He sat up in bed last night, after reading the "My first Channukah" book six times, and said "Mama, Where are the Macabees?" I told a rambling story about the jews were sad when they lost their temple and Judah the Macabee who saved the day. He furrowed his brow and said again, "WHERE are the Macabees?"My story didn't cut it, apparently. I should leave it to the actual Jews in the family. He did also say "It's Holidays. We hear music. Christmas lights. I celebrate Channukah with Nana." So he's getting the idea.

There were moms out there holding candles within the hour - from the Mothers Outreach Movement. They were no doubt trying to be the consoling and calming force that Moms are always trying to be. Ironically, the Seattle Times says that the victim stumbled into the Community Center - where a group of kids preparing an event focused on the impact of violence on their lives were traumatized once again - by a wounded, bleeding 18-year-old collapsing in their midst.

It makes me want to hug my kid more. And it makes me want to support the MOMs who are taking a stand for their kids.

And if you were wondering what Xavi's up to? Well, last week he started brushing the hair out of his eyes and declaring, "I look great.".  I'm not lying. He really did that. And Grammy says she didn't teach it to him. Also, I'm sorry to say he has started exclaiming:

"Oh my God. Oh my Goodness. Whoa."

We didn't mean to teach him that.

It's been two months since I tried to write anything on this blog. Most of which I spent living in Shushan, NY, population 784, just outside of my hometown of Cambridge, where we were visiting to be useful to my Dad, who has  lung cancer. Cancer sucks, as most of the world knows all too well.

But the theme here is little X. The genius of our lives. He's got a lot to say. Poor guy, today he was exhausted. Jet lag inspired him to wake up the household at 4:50am. And the general confusion of managing the "SEAaaattlllle" house versus the "Shu-shan" house might have kept him up in the would be naptime of the afternoon. Even so, I think both Erin and I would be happy to have two people trying to manage our transition. I think I'd like having someone let me know in advance what's on the horizon. " Next you're going to drink this cup of coffee, and then put your shoes on and walk to work. Ok?"

Anyway, he's still hilarious. He declared yesterday morning that instead of cereal for breakfast he wanted to "Make Hot Bacon! Hot Bacon!" Which he's never eaten, but he must have been warned about one morning at Pop's house. And he nearly leapt out of his high chair when reminded that he could go to the zoo here. "Famiingeyos! Famiingoyes! Beayars!" he shouted.

No doubt there's more to say, but sleep calls.