Working

Eighteen months is a delightful age. I would love to freeze so many parts of where Isaac is right now. I love the way that he chatters constantly, is obsessed with Noah-- saying his name all the time, and cheers for himself when he gets something right.

He has deemed himself my "helper" recently. Whatever I am doing, he wants to be a part of it. In fact, he is doing his best to "help" me compose this blog post. He lays down next to me and imitates me while I do crunches, he loves to sweep, puts silverware away (it doesn't matter if it's clean or dirty), and busies himself rearranging books.

I was doing the laundry this morning (you can find me doing laundry most mornings-- it's endless) and went around the house to gather up stray clothing. When I returned I found that Isaac was pulling all of the clean clothes out of the basket and putting them back into the dryer. I caught him about halfway through and ran to grab the camera. I should have grabbed the video camera instead so that I could have documented all the grunting and heaving that went into this effort. He was so pleased with his efforts and sighed contentedly (I think he learned that from me) as he slammed the dryer shut. I waited until he was busy with something else before I snuck the clothes back out and up to my room to be folded so as not to destroy his sense of accomplishment. I would eat him if I could...

You will have to excuse the pictures, laundry room lighting is less than ideal.