Real Time

I'm sitting on a stool at the island in our kitchen, watching J.P. and Jude put together a "Thomas the Train" puzzle on the floor of the dining room.  It's got 24 large pieces - a toddler puzzle, so to speak.  He's been quite taken with it the past few days.

The funny part, though, is that J.P. yells, fake cries and generally raises hell when he can't get a piece of the puzzle to fit. Then, when he finds where a particular piece fits, it's smiles and sunny days again.
Now, he's lying on his stomach, looking at a piece and saying to himself, "what can be the problem?"  He's got a look of concentration on his face as he stares intently at the remaining pieces.

We're listening to "Snacktime!" (Barenaked Ladies) on the iPod, which J.P. requested at dinner.  It makes me a little sad and nostalgic to hear it, because it was the first album he really liked and one we used to listen to, literally, every morning at breakfast.

When he still ate in a high chair.  When he wasn't talking much.  When he wasn't as tall as he is now.  When he hadn't discovered the television, iPad, the computer or iPhone.  When he didn't know his letters.  In other words, when he was young.  It's crazy to think he'll be 3 years old in almost exactly two months.

Is it possible I already miss "the Snacktime days?"  I guess it is, because I do.