Not the most responsible sort of picture to be taking, I admit. The light was red, so you know.

A child's attention is a flighty, fickle thing. When it's in his hands, Jason will love an object utterly; it will bring him a joy that might be unsettling in someone older. But when he's done with it, it's out of his mind, left behind, and unthought of—until the next time he wants it. Sometimes his little accidental tableaux are surprisingly beautiful. I wonder if Eva will be the same way.

Last week when I was home taking care of Eva (she had pinkeye and couldn't go to daycare) I marveled at how entertained she was by a simple box. As it turns out, boxes are pretty awesome for three-year-olds as well.

(Who am I kidding? They're pretty great for thirty-two-year-olds, too.)

I don't really know why he has his shirt off. Usually it's because he spilled something on it, but I think this time he just felt like it.

If I recall correctly, he was insisting that he wasn't tired just a few minutes prior to this shot. Or maybe I'm thinking of every other time he's ever been tired.

Sometimes after a few minutes of having your dad push you on the swing, you need a little break to have a drink and let the batteries recharge a bit.

Different generations, similar sensibilities about appropriate attire for the front lawn.

I think she looks a lot like my baby pictures sometimes. Except with blue eyes.

This is what my life looks like, I think. Messy, but beautiful.

The fact that he has gotten out of bed does not necessarily mean that Jason is done with his nap.