Dalton Family Party, Kyoto-style

At the risk of sounding dramatic, I'll just say that I may never recover from Kyoto.  It was one of the most beautiful places I've ever been and one of the few places outside of the British Isles I've ever wanted to live.  It was nothing short of spectacular.

Part of this was probably the weather.  It was perfection -- highs in the 70s, breezy, sunny.  Being out of doors was a joy.  And the natural world feels closely wedded to this city.  It is ringed by mountains, and most of the famous shrines and temples are up in the hills.  Most of the time when we were visiting a shrine I felt like I was up on a hike in the mountains.  It was rejuvenating and peaceful.

Ginkaku-ji, northern Higashiyama district.

Also, it was so fun to have a family reunion there!  Something we shall always cherish, I think.  Jack was enamored with his cousins ("my Paxtons," as he called them), and the worst part of the entire trip was separating Jack from them at the end of it.  He wept his heart out from the Imperial Palace Grounds to the subway, until he finally passed into a sob-induced coma of sorts and slept off some of his sorrow.  When he woke up we gave him a toy dinosaur and that got us through the worst of it, but it was all rather heart-breaking.

Just a little cousin dance party in the train station.

But anyway, Kyoto.  We stayed very near to one of the more famous shrines, Fushimi Inari-taisha.  It was an Air BNB, so we basically rented this awesome, quirky old Japanese townhouse for a week.  We slept on futons in a tatami room and Jack loved that we had a "family room."  It is basically his dream to have the family all sleep in the same room (not so much our dream).  William loved it too, way too much.  Getting him to sleep at night was a bit of a nightmare as all he wanted to do was throw himself and his stuffed animals onto the futons or his sleeping brother.  Thankfully Jack is a deep sleeper.

Leo, with a giant warm loaf of shokupan (fluffy, dreamy Japanese bread).

One of the best parts of our Air BNB was proximity to an awesome Japanese bakery and grocery store.  We ate many a meal from its delightful deli section, and the children basically ate rice, gyoza, tempura, and kara-age (fried chicken) for lunch and dinner most days.  They couldn't have been happier.  Leo came down every morning requesting rice and shoyu for breakfast, and was ready to eat it again for lunch and dinner.

Our first day there we actually spent in Nara, a small city southeast of Kyoto, that predated Kyoto as Japan's capital of sorts (this is in the early 8th century).  Kyoto was founded in 794 so Nara didn't have long, but it still has some awesome stuff to show for it, namely, the mighty Daibutsu (giant Buddha).  And lots of aggressive, so-called "tame" roaming deer.  The temple, Todai-ji, houses the 1200 year old Daibutsu, the world's largest bronze statue.  I remember learning about the Daibutsu in my Asian Humanities class at BYU, so it was quite a thrill to meet him in person.  Really, really impressive.  The sheer size of everything is rather overwhelming--from the massive Great South Gate (8th century, with 12th century restoration after a typhoon hit it hard) and Hall of the Daibutsu (a 17th century reproduction, and smaller than the original, but still one of the world's largest wooden structures), to the wonderful Daibutsu himself. He lost his head twice to earthquakes which would explain why by the 17th century the hall would have needed some major repair (his head is huge).  Inside the hall there is a famous pillar that has a hole at the base, the size of the Daibutsu's nostril, the so-called Nostril of Enlightenment.  You crawl through, the path to nirvana will be opened to you.  But only if you are really skinny, or a child.  So Jack and the Paxton children are well on their way to enlightenment.

Todaiji, which houses the Buddha

Gate to Todaiji.

The Daibutsu

Jack maintains a safe distance from the deer.

Nara is also famous for its deer.  They are everywhere around Todai-ji, getting fed by squealing tourists.  Jack and Will were thrilled at the prospect of feeding the deer until we actually did it.  We have no picture of this scenario because all our hands were otherwise engaged, either holding panicking children (me, with one child in each arm) or bravely batting away aggressive deer (Josh).  There were about six of them surrounding Josh, biting at his shorts pocket and pushing up against his chest and back.  Josh, of course, remained calm and collected.  The boys were screaming and clinging to me in a mixture of panic and fascination.  Turns out they are more of my ilk where animals are concerned.  After the deer departed Jack became very bold in his trash-talking. "The deer will not bite my shirt!  My will get them with my mighty stick!  Hi-yah! [ninja kick]."  Of course if one ever came close he started shriek-laughing and clambering all over me again.  It was an adventure.

Morning start with Mr. Cool.

Tuesday morning we got a nice early start and walked to Fushimi Inari-taisha, one of the coolest places I've been.  It is a Shinto shrine to Inari, the god of rice/wealth, and it consists of thousands of red torii that trail up a mountain.  It was just remarkable.  Depending on how the morning sun hit the torii, the pathway would glow with red, orange, or yellow light, and all surrounded by deep green forest.  Again, I'm so impressed with the way the Japanese wed the natural world to their holy places.  It makes for such a peaceful, rejuvenating experience.  It also helped that we were there earlyish on a weekday, so not overly crowded.  Along the path were various smaller shrines, so the hike up was broken up with nice stops, but we still didn't scale the whole mountain.  Josh and I were each carrying a boy by this point, so it was a good quad workout as well. 

A stop along the way

The gates of Fushimi-inari Taisha

Sadly, we had to part ways with Grandma and Grandpa when we got back to the house.  We were spoiled by having 9 days with them in Okinawa, but that meant they only spent two days on the mainland.  So thanks go out to Tom and Shigeko for finding the awesome Air BNB and orchestrating much of the trip, and cooking many delightful Japanese meals (cream stew and hayashi rice).  We missed them when they were gone, and Will would still wander around in the morning saying: "Baga? Baga?" (his word for Grandpa/Grandma).

With Grandma and Grandpa at the sea wall in Okinawa.

Best buddies, Baga and his boy.

Poor Thomas and William got one of their very few decent naps that day, and then we headed out to brave Kyoto's most popular site, the Buddhist temple, Kiyomizu-dera.  I will take a moment here to comment on the worst part of the trip, which was dealing with the constant fear of one of the children getting mowed over by a bicyclist or motorcycle.  Kids are just not aware of their surroundings, and unless the four youngest were safely strapped into the two double strollers, getting anywhere was stressful and slow. 

Pagoda seen from across the way from Kiyomizu-dera

Anyway, I digress: Kiyomizu-dera.  We were nearly crushed by tour buses and the general melee of tourism along the long, extremely steep, and dangerously narrow walk up the mountain to the temple, but our bravery and efforts were well-rewarded.  It was worth the crowds to see that place in late afternoon, with the lowering sun turning the red pagodas to fire.  Kiyomizu-dera is built up on the eastern mountains, so it is particularly stunning at sunset...as every Chinese tourist and Japanese school group seemed to know.  The path winds through the temple to a famous spring at the base, with water streaming out from three fountains.  Each of the fountains is said to bring good luck in one of three areas of life: health, love, and academics. However, if you drink from more than one, then you are greedy, and it will bring you no benefit.  So Elise (nearly 10) and Chloe (8) were back and forth all day about which spring they were going to drink from.  Leo (5), was near tears about not wanting to drink from the love fountain. I heard him wail several times to Juli: "I don't want to fall in love!"  A world-wise young man.  Jack was mostly just excited about any opportunity to play with water.  Anyway, when the moment came, there were no signs to indicate which fountain was which, so it was left to the gods.  But I have a feeling that the beautiful and intelligent Paxton children, led by their exceedingly fit parents, are destined to succeed in all areas of life.

The Troublemakers on the steps leading up to Kiyomizu-dera.

Will enjoying sightseeing

Kiyomizu-dera, as the sun sets.

When the sun had finally gone down and photo-crazy Ben was at last bereft of his soft lighting, we commenced one of the worst parts of traveling: finding a place to eat when everyone is already hungry and the babies are fussy.  The path up the mountain was crammed with touristy shops filled with kitschy souvenirs and overpriced food.  But while pausing to peruse some guidebooks, Ben noticed a signpost pointing down a flight of stone steps to a beautifully lit, narrow street below.  It was the famous Sannen-zaka and Ninen-zaka, and in the hopes of finding something to eat, Juli and I left the men to wrangle the children and we dashed down to explore.  It was one of the loveliest ten minute detours I could have concocted!  The streets were nearly empty of tourists, and the narrow stoned street and old wooden buildings were utterly picturesque in the twilight.  Sadly, all the restaurants we found looked way too upscale to handle our bevy of tired children, so we retreated.  Before we hit the train station we stumbled upon a hole-in-the-wall ramen joint, and we were not disappointed.  It was delicious, simple fare, and Leo got all the rice and shoyu he could have desired.

Charming sections of Sannen-zaka

More of Sannen-zaka

   

Raked stone gardens at Tenryu-ji

We spent Wednesday in the western mountainous districts of Arashiyama and Saga.  I'm really running out of superlatives, but again, it was all just so beautiful.  We started at Tenryu-ji, skipping the temple itself and heading straight for the gardens.  It was magical.  Lovely, raked white rocks, backed by a dark lake, all framed by the lush mountains--mostly green, but dotted with the red and orange splashes of approaching fall.  After wandering the gardens we exited the North gate of the temple into the famed Arashiyama bamboo groves--unlike any place I'd ever been. Sunlight filtering the lightly-swaying, far-away tops of the trees, but cool and dark in the grove beneath.  Each bamboo stands distinct; little undergrowth was in the forest.  Magical.

Tenryu-ji

Tenryuji

Bamboo groves

After lunch we climbed a nearby mountain to take the kids to a monkey park.  I had some trepidation, considering the Nara deer stretched me as far as my animal tolerance goes.  Monkeys wandering freely around me and my children sounded like my worst nightmare, but it ended up being undramatic, other than the stunning view of Kyoto from the top, which was spectacular.  William in particular was thrilled with the monkeys, and had been making money noises the entire morning (every time we mentioned going to the monkey park).  You can feed the monkeys by standing inside a little house/cage thing, which I suppose is a nice reversal for the monkeys (the people are in the cage and they are free).  Another goldmine on this stop was a playground a short ways down the mountain.  The kids were ecstatic and some hilarious slide antics began among the cousins.

View of Kyoto from the monkey park

 
To finish off the afternoon we took taxis to the famous Kinkaku-ji, or Golden Pavilion.  It began as a retirement villa for a 14th century shogun but was later converted into a Buddhist temple: a three-story pavilion rising over a lake, covered in gold-leaf.  We arrived in late afternoon, just as the lowering sun was shining full on it.  It was like something from a story -- a brilliant golden temple floating on a lake, surrounded by the most lush mountain greenery.  Pretty spectacular.  Equally spectacular were the crowds.  Not just tourists, but hordes and hordes of school groups.  And all this, with William screaming his guts out in a frantic last ditch effort to fight a much-delayed nap.  He finally passed out, to everyone's relief.  We did our best to stroll around the gardens--which were beautiful, and had the feel of a mountain forest--but they were pretty crowded, so we decided it was time to head home.

Kinkaku-ji in all of its shining glory (photo cred to Juli)

 

To keep with the theme of the afternoon, we then proceeded to take the most crowded bus ride of our lives.  Ben and I were in the back with all six of the children, leaving Juli and Josh sandwiched in the middle with the strollers.  Ben likened getting off the bus to a military style extraction.  It probably would have been easier to just pass the children out the window, but somehow we made it to the front, with perhaps a few small Japanese people severely jostled by the strollers and children.     

  

Nijo-jo Gate, and the gravel that Will would not be parted from.

Thursday morning we went to Nijo-jo, the shogun castle near central Kyoto.  It was most memorable for its expansive, beautiful interiors, and the anti-ninja floors, which squeaked like birds.  That's about all I can remember of this visit as William was being a bit of a handful.  He was very mad about being separated from the rocks in the large courtyard outside, and couldn't get over it.  Lunch was delicious ramen at Ippudo, and it did not disappoint. 

We spent the afternoon at the house so the babies could nap, then headed out for an evening walk through Gion, the famed geisha district.  Josh and I actually saw a geisha walk by while everyone else was grabbing food in the convenience store--it was a quite a thrill.  Our walking tour took us along a gorgeous little canal, past beautifully lit shops and fancy tea houses and restaurants, then back to the rather riotous main drag.  It was a lovely walk but it ended like they all do, with screaming babies that are mad about not being let to run across streets and get hit by cars and bicycles, etc. (ahem, William). 

Gion at night

 Friday was perhaps my favorite day (sigh).  So much perfection in one day.  We took a less-crowded bus up to the northeast edge of the city, the northern Higashiyama district, starting at Ginkaku-ji, the so-called Silver Pavilion.  It has no silver on it, anywhere, but apparently it was supposed to be plated in silver, but they ran out of funding (according to Josh's History of Japan by Doraemon).  But who needs silver anyway when there are such gardens??  I think these were my favorite of the trip, and it wasn't crowded at all.  These gardens included kogetsudai, perfectly raked cones or shapes of white sand.  The guidebook said that they were designed to reflect moonlight, making the gardens even more beautiful at night, and I'm sad to say we couldn't stick around long enough to see it.  But I think my favorite part was the moss gardens--carpets of thick green all through the forest, trailing down to quiet little streams.  I just wanted to take a nap there. 

Moss gardens at Ginkakuji

 After a tasty lunch of donburi (basically hot rice with yummy toppings--beef, eggs, tofu, whatever), we carried on south along the Tetsugaku-no-michi, or Philosopher's Path.  This was heaven, mostly because we actually got to walk and relax at the same time (a miracle).  It is a quiet little pedestrian path that starts at Ginkaku-ji and winds past many beautiful temples until ending near the grand Nanzen-ji temple complex.  No cars, no bicycles, no hordes of tourists.  It was incredibly pleasant; the most peaceful afternoon of the whole trip.  This must be what comes of communing with philosophers.

Another perfect moment was stopping at Honen-in, the quietest of all the temples we visited.  It is tucked away against the mountainside, and one of those places that made me feel that if I lived there nothing would ever be wrong with me.  I would have perfect mental health, all the time.  The garden had two exquisite kogetsudai, one with a maple leaf shaped on top and another with a ginko leaf.  The gardens and small, graceful buildings were dappled by moving sunlight and cool shade, with more exquisite swaths of moss. 

Kogetsudai

 

Then to make it all even better, we found a little playground, and the children were in heaven.  And then both babies fell asleep as we carried on the Philosopher's Path.  We stopped at Nanzen-ji, a large complex of Buddhist temples, but most impressive was the gigantic Sanmon gate.

This is what success looks like, people: two sleeping babies.

That is the face Jack makes when he is with his cousins.

Our final stop for the day was, again, utterly splendid: Heian-jingu, the grand (two-thirds scale) reproduction of the Heian period imperial palace.  By Kyoto standards, it is quite new, built in 1895 to commemorate the 1,100th anniversary of Kyoto's founding (thank you, National Geographic Japan, for this helpful information).  The buildings were painted a bright orange/red and green, which is historically accurate.  But most wonderful of all were the gardens, which we had all to ourselves.  The guidebooks said the hordes were usually out in force, but it was just the magic of the day (and perhaps because we snuck in a few minutes before they closed the outside gates).  The meandering path led through several lily ponds lined with lush trees, and happily, one of the ponds had stepping stones for the children to jump across.  And only Leo fell in, so not bad. 

A mighty leap!

Note the soft lighting.

It should be noted how long we spent at the final covered bridge across the last lake at twilight, so Ben could capture the perfection of the soft lighting.  Many, many, many pictures were taken.  Ben could have saved himself the trouble of years of medical school, etc, and just been a wedding photographer.  The children had a blast, however, throwing crackers and fishies at the carp.

It was a grand, grand day.  Also memorable was seeing Ben and Juli stagger in from the date we forced them to go on for their last night in Japan.  They found an all-you-can-eat shabu shabu (Japanese hot pot) place, and ordered the wagyu beef.  "I feel drunk," was Ben's summation of how much they ate.  Just a little jealous, perhaps.

We spent our final morning in Kyoto busily packing and tidying up the Air B&B after 6 days of living there with six children.  The tatami mats only got peed on twice, which I guess is a victory?  The joys of traveling with children.  It was an adventure getting to the train station with all the bags and all the children, as it was Saturday morning and the tourists were out in force around Fushimi Inari-taisha.  It is worth mentioning some more Paxton family heroics.  When we had at last made it to the right train platform, and the train was 4 minutes away from arriving, Juli realized she had left her phone in the B&B (a ten minute walk from the train station).  Ben took off, and Juli decided to stay with her crew and wait for him to catch the next train.  In what can only be described as a feat of impressive physical ability, Ben reappeared in 4 minutes to make the very same train.  Even more impressive considering the sheer number of Chinese tourists crowding the streets, and the taxis, and the train crossing that would inevitably hold us up.  It was a job well done.

We spent the afternoon in the Imperial Palace Grounds, where they had a fun playground complex for
the children.  This was the site of the gut-wrenching departure from the Paxtons, when the sad truth fell upon Jack that separation from his beloved cousins was actually happening.  It was rather heart-wrenching.  And thus began our long journey back to Okinawa, and the Paxton's far-longer journey back to the States.

Cousin fun at the Imperial Palace playgrounds.

It is safe to say I fell in love with Kyoto.  So much love, in fact, that I would brave the insane crowds in November or March to be able to see that place in the full, ephemeral glory of autumn maples or spring cherry blossoms.  And there are so very many places we didn't get to see that I am longing to see.  The whole trip felt like a gift; a beautiful, peaceful respite from a recent loss I had encountered; a rejuvenating immersion in the splendor of mountains, trees, moss, stone, and holy spaces. 

And mostly, it was family.  It was a true gift to be in that special place with beloved and enduring relationships.  I will treasure the memories of Jack's shrieks of delight as he raced with his cousins to leap across the stepping-stone lake just one more time (and poor Leo's shrieks of distress as he and his shoes got slimed); the beatific look on Chloe's face when she finally won over Will's heart after days of patiently trying to play with him, and he showered her with love and attention; little Thomas' frantically happy dash towards any slide whenever we found a playground; Leo's euphoria upon finding out that every restaurant we ate at did, indeed, have rice; Elise and Chloe's excitement over drinking from the right fountain at Kiyomizu-dera.  There was also Ben's unlucky ordering of "death okonomiyaki" (there are two Japanese words for the number four; one, "shi" is not frequently used as it means death, and that is the one Ben used); Juli's impressive display of well-retained high school and college Japanese skills; my kids-free, twilight dash with Juli down the Sannen-zaka to see night-lit, ageless stone streets; Shigeko taking the little girls shopping for souvenirs, Tom telling us the history behind the temples and shrines we visited; Josh, happily drinking melon cream soda, eating okonomiyaki two nights in a row, savoring the smell of tatami, and making life easier for the rest of us with his language skills.        

The only solution to all this is to go back.  Thanksgiving 2016, anyone?  

Happy 1st Birthday to William!

Newborn Will.

This past year with William has taught me many things.  First, having a baby can be a pleasant experience.  (No offense to Jack, but "pleasant," since it implies a general sense of calm enjoyment of things, cannot really be applied to Jack.  Jack is and always has been a wild ride: extremes of emotion, riotous good fun, non-stop movement, roguish charm, heart-melting displays of affection and loyalty, etc, but all at a much higher decibel than "pleasant").  William would finish nursing, and instead of either screaming his guts out or shooting up off my lap to go explore the world, he would smile, giggle, and play face games with me.  He would just sit on my lap, content to be with me.  When he wakes up from a nap, sometimes he just chatters in his bed by himself until I go find him, rosy cheeked, hair like a mad scientist, grinning at me.  He also falls asleep that way often, just chatting to himself in his crib. 

He's much squirmier now, but for a few months there every time I picked him up, he cuddled.  He would rest his head on my shoulder and stroke the nape of my neck with his hand, or hang on to my hair there.  A baby can do no wrong when they're pulling tricks like this.  And in the early months of unspectacular sleeping habits, I would occasionally just roll him off me in bed and sleep next to him.  When he'd wake up, sometimes all I would have to do was reach over and put my arm around him, and he'd settle back to sleep.  It was awesome, bizarre, and so endearing--as if all he needed was to know I was there.  But let's be real, some nights that absolutely did not work and there was much fussing and nursing and me waking up hours later in the rocking chair with intense lower back pain.

Pre-weight gain Will

I have stated that I was uncomfortable during my pregnancy with him.  So uncomfortable, in fact, that I was even ready to face my fear of dealing with a sleep-defying newborn again.  But then he was born, and then--he slept.  Those firsts few weeks of his life, Josh and I would look at each other in shock when Will would just drift off to sleep in the bouncy chair, or stay asleep when we'd put him in the bassinet, or sleep from feeding to feeding.  Then around 3 weeks he woke up a bit more and had some normal-baby fussy spells for 4 weeks or so, but still!  Compared to the crash course in insomnia that was Jack's first year of life, William was a piece of cake. 

Weight gain has commenced.

Also, he ate (and eats).  Don't know what happened differently this time, but with Jack we had to supplement nursing with formula, almost from the very start.  It was stressful, and I pumped for the first 9 months to try to keep my supply up.  For whatever reason, this time around, my body figured it out, and I made more than enough milk, and William starting breaking the charts from about 8 weeks on.  He's been slimming down over the past few months since he started crawling and we're all pouting a bit over it.  That being said, he also eats real food.  By himself.  With his own hands.  He eats things like eggs, meat, bread, rice, beans, fruit, vegetables, yogurt, soup, shakshuka, ramen, fish...basically whatever we're eating.  It's mind-blowing. 

I know I'm biased, but he is a beautiful boy.  He was one of the most beautiful newborns I've ever seen (tied with Jack, of course), and then he just kept getting more luscious and delicious and squishable as he fattened up.  His hair is brown with the occasional golden sheen to it in the sunlight, and his eyes are dark, dark blue, with hazel or brown around the pupil (we have never been able to properly tell).  And he has lovely, long, black eyelashes.  I rather covet them.  And lucky for Will, he inherited Daddy's skin.  He is already tanner than Jack and I will ever be. 

The Weight Gain: Exhibit A (Around 8 weeks)

The Weight Gain: Exhibit B (Around 10 weeks)

The Weight Gain: Exhibit C (Around 6 months)

The Eyelashes: Exhibit A

The Eyelashes: Exhibit B

Two-toned eyes.  And food face.

So really there have been two Williams over the past year: pre-crawling Will, and post-crawling Will.  Pre-crawling Will was like a cherubic little sumo wrestler, who would sit in front of a pile of toys and happily play with them while I chased Jack around or cooked or whatever.  He sat for months before he could crawl (opposite of Jack, who was crawling around 5 months).  Finally around 8.5 months he managed to get his mighty girth up off the floor and the rest is a history of disaster and house disembowelment.  He took his first steps around 11.5 months, so it's about to get worse.

Pre-crawling Will

Post-crawling Will

It's like being able to move unlocked this dormant juggernaut inside of him.  When before I used to mostly just call him names like sweetie, little bug, and chunk-a-chunk, now it's mostly Wrecking Ball Will, mongrel, monster, William the Destroyer, etc.  William does not have the manic energy that Jack does, but he is like the much-touted honey badger when he wants something: he will keep at it, over and over and over again, refusing to give up or relinquish whatever it is he's after.  And then if  you take it away from him, he cries like his very world has shattered.  He also does this move that utterly terrifies me: when I'm holding him and he reeeeaaally wants down, he suddenly becomes an electrified, acrobatic, greased piglet, and usually I find myself holding onto a limb while the rest of him has plunged to the ground.  It is not my favorite move of his. 

Isn't he dashing?  Photo by Jeremy Meek (aka Uncle Chunk)

He loves to play chase games and peek-a-boo through the stair rails. Sometimes he has so much fun doing this that he gets "fun drunk," and he can no longer crawl without collapsing in giggles.  Or hurtling backwards off the stairs, arms up, laughing all the while (we do catch him).  He loves balls and can throw one and then chase after it and throw it again, shuffling all over the house, finding the dustiest corners and then eating gross bits of old pretzel.  Or Playdough (mother-of-the-year award moments). 

Sumo Will and Buzz Lightyear Jack for Halloween 2014

He is a happy boy.  He adores his family, and when he hears Josh come home he says "dada, dada" and starts booking it for the stairs to find him, chuckling and cackling to himself.  He loves to play with Jack, and although I don't think they look that much alike yet (different face and feature shape, although this could be due to Will's squishy cheeks), they have the same laugh.  Sometimes in the car they play this game where they make each other laugh by . . . get ready . . . looking at each other.  They whip themselves up into near hysterical laughing/shrieking fits.  One time I looked in the rearview mirror and saw that they were reaching out from their respective car seats and holding hands, and then my heart became a puddle of mom-joy.  Their play is always physical, and it usually ends with Jack doing something violent to Will. Thankfully, as aforementioned, Will is sturdy, and he holds up pretty well.  I have a feeling that in a year or two I will not be able to keep up with them and their antics.

Will loves music, and will coo along with my lullabies and bounce along to whatever music is playing.  We're pretty sure he's got a couple of words already: dada, ball, and bear (his best buddy).  His relationship with Bear is rather adorable.  He insists on nursing with him under one arm, which gets a bit awkward as he's rather big.  If he's ever been separated from Bear for a while and then they are reunited, Will starts laughing and saying "Buh buh buh" and then tackles Bear, embracing him and biting his nose. 

So to say William is of a calmer temperament than his brother is not to say he is gentler.  Will is rough.  I once found him with a handful of Jack's hair (Jack probably deserved it).  He hates diaper changes with all of his little soul and has perfected the roll-away move if I take my hands off him for one second to grab a wipe or whatever.  Basically I am just a punching bag while I nurse him.  He smacks my sternum over and over again with the flat of his palm (I think he likes the sound).  He grabs like 3 hairs at a time and yanks them out.  He swipes at my throat, pokes my eye, sticks his finger up my nose, in my ear, in my mouth and then scratches my gums.  And when I growl at him for this he usually just chuckles.

All the violence aside, my favorite time of the day with William is still usually when I'm nursing and rocking him right before bedtime.  I can hear Josh and Jack playing ninja turtle games together downstairs, and Jack's happy giggles float up to us in the bedroom.  In the wintertime the room is already dark, and shadows of bare trees move gently across the walls.  In the spring and summer the room is still light, that quiet grey of twilight that settles slowly through the house.  After I brush his teeth, I cuddle him up in the crook of my arm and sing him one of two favorite lullabies, Baby Mine, or A Dream is a Wish.  No matter how sleepy he is, he usually croons along: "Da-boo, da-boo.  Bah bah bah.  Ga-boo, Ga-boo."  Sometimes his eyes are very sleepy, lids lazily opening and closing; sometimes he stares right into my eyes, smiling and gurgling a bit.  He makes me feel loved, and that motherhood is even better than I hoped it would be.  Then usually the idyll is disrupted by him scratching me in the eyeball or knocking me in the mouth with his fist, and he ends up getting dumped in bed rather unceremoniously.  But then I blow kisses and he blows kisses back, wraps his arms around Bear, and rolls over, chatting to himself, as I leave the room.

Happy Birthday, William!  Thank you for coming to our family, for being the answer to so many prayers, and for bringing your sweet, merry, hopeful, darling spirit to our home.  We are all better because of your life.