the first sign of fall

It's not the weather, or the few leaves that are starting to dry and yellow. It's chocolate chip pumpkin muffins... the recipe given to me a few years ago by a friend of mine. Baking them has become a tradition, enticing people who would normally never eat pumpkin to... well, eat pumpkin. We're now having to double the recipe to make enough for both of the boys to take to school, making sure not to forget last year's teachers, as {p} reminded me. Except I just realized the double recipe won't be enough and tomorrow I'll probably make another double batch.

Ingredients
1 cup flour
1 cup sugar
1tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp of baking soda
1/4 tsp. salt
1 tsp. of cinnamon
2 eggs beaten
1 cup canned pumpkin
1/2 cup cooking oil
1/3 cup of miniature chocolate chips

Procedure
1. In one bowl combine ... eggs, pumpkin, and oil.
2. Add this mixture to the dry ingredients, then fold in the chips (you know you really need to add more than the recipe calls for, right?)
3. Spoon batter in to muffin cups (2/3 full) and bake for 20-25 minutes at 350 degrees
and enjoy:

bigger

Walking into school today, {p} reached to hold my hand,
and suddenly
I realized that it took up more space in mine.
When did that happen?

first day of school: round 2

The only pictures I have to remember {s}'s first day of school today are those of him flat on the floor, head covered by his arms because

"Me no want pictures!"

I think if {p} had done that at 2, I would've picked him up and made him stand at the door just so I could get that shot of the first day outfit and the cute little school bag. And I probably could've done that with {s} -- maybe not... he's pretty stubborn -- but the floor thing reflected his personality so I decided to take the picture just as he was.

I had to fill out a sheet to send to school with him today. One of the questions asked for three words to describe our child. I'm so used to thinking of adjectives for {p}. He's smart, he's caring, he's compassionate, he's sensitive, he's mature. I almost caught myself writing the same sort of thing for {s}, until it hit me that although he can be those things, they aren't him.

He's silly, he's funny, he's a mess, he's curious, he's inquisitive, he's bright, he's stubborn. Sometimes he smothers me with kisses, and sometimes he swipes his face until it is red to wipe kisses off. Sometimes he'll put his hands on my cheeks and say, "I love you," and sometimes he'll glare at me and say, "Me no like you." Sometimes he'll pose for the camera with a huge grin, and sometimes he'll flop on the floor, hands covering his head. But that's okay. It's who he is.