Same old, same old

Tommy eats two breakfasts every morning. Today, for example, he has had a large bowl of oatmeal, a plateful of pineapple, and a (whole) peanut butter and jelly sandwich. And here's the thing, he's not getting fat. I think he eats more calories in a day than I do, and remember I'm breastfeeding and walking and running a lot (I walked three miles yesterday, then ran five). Pretty soon, we'll have to start taking money from his college fund in order to buy groceries. (Luckily, he watches so much TV these days that I'm not sure college is in his future.)

Tommy to Lizzie this afternoon:

"Do you want to be a firefighter, Liz? Do you? Yeah? Do you want an axe? You can chop through doors! Do you want an axe for your birthday? Liz, it's not your birthday yet." (In the Richard Scarry book, the firefighter uses an axe to chop through a playroom door to save a little pig.)

We're all doing fine today. Not enough napping by Lizzie (so she's super duper fussy), not enough listening to Mommy's words by Tommy (we left the park almost as soon as we got there this morning, and he's lost his scooter), but fine.

I'll try to post pictures tomorrow.

EDITED TO ADD: Lizzie did two front to back rolls this morning during tummy time. So she might actually be rolling. I tried to take a movie for you, but she refused to do it a third time.